THE   LOST  MANUSCRIPT. 


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THE  LOST  MANUSCRIPT. 


A  NOVEL. 


BY  GUSTAV/FREYTAG. 


Authorised  translation  from   the  Sixteenth   German   Edition. 
IN  TWO  VOLUMES. 

VOL.  I. 


"A  noble  human  life  does  not  end  on  earth  with  death.  It  continues 
in  the  minds  and  the  deeds  of  friends,  as  well  as  in  the  thoughts  and  the 
activity  of  the  nation." 


CHICAGO  : 

THE  OPEN  COURT  PUBLISHING  COMPANY. 
1890. 


TRANSLATION  COPYRIGHTED 

—  BY  — 

THE  OPEN  COURT  PUBLISHING  COMPANY, 


i.r 
vs. 


(t-n    'tn.e^-fiae^    >%£/z^: 


PUBLISHERS'  PREFACE. 


GUSTAV  FREYTAG  has  expressed  the  central  idea  of 
his  novel  The  Lost  Manuscript  in  the  motto  which  he 
has  written  for  the  American  edition  : 

"  A  noble  human  life  does  not  end  on  earth  with  death.  It 
continues  in  the  minds  and  the  deeds  of  friends,  as  well  as  in  the 
thoughts  and  the  activity  of  the  nation." 

This  idea  of  the  continuity  and  preservation  of 
soul-life  permeates  the  whole  work.  It  meets  us  at  every 
hand.  We  observe  the  professor  in  his  study,  ever  eager 
to  fathom  the  thoughts  of  the  great  thinkers  of  the  past 
and  imbuing  his  students  with  their  lofty  spirit.  We 
sympathize  with  the  heroine  of  this  novel,  the  strong, 
pious  Saxon  maiden,  in  her  religious  and  intellectual 
development  ;  we  behold  her  soul  enlarging  under  the 
influence  of  unusual  and  trying  situations ;  we  watch  her 
mentally  growing  amid  the  new  ideas  crowding  in  upon 
her.  We  enjoy  the  droll  characterizations  of  the  half- 
educated,  of  Mrs.  Rollmaus  and  the  servants,  in  whose 
minds  the  mysteries  of  soul-life  appear  in  the  shape  of 
superstitious  notions.  And  we  see,  again,  the  conse- 
quences of  wrong-doing,  of  errors,  and  of  mistakes 
continuing  like  a  heavy  curse,  depressing  the  mind 
and  hindering  its  freedom.  And  this  last  provokes  a 


viii  PUBLISHERS'    PREFACE. 

wholesome  reaction  and  is  finally  conquered   by   un- 
shirking  courage  in  honest  spiritual  combat. 

Illustrations  of  psychical  laws  showing  the  con- 
nections and  continuity  of  the  threads  in  the  warp  and 
woof  of  human  soul-life,  are  found  indeed  in  all  the" 
works  of  Gustav  Freytag.  The  great  novelist  antici- 
pated the  results  that  have  of  late  been  established  by 
the  experiments  of  modern  psychology.  He  says  in 
his  Autobiographical  Reminiscences  : 

"  What  a  man's  own  life  accomplishes  in  the  formation  of  his 
character,  and  the  extent  to  which  it  fully  develops  his  native  ca- 
pacities, we  observe  and  estimate  even  in  the  best  cases  only  with 
imperfect  knowledge.  But  still  more  difficult  is  it  to  determine  and 
comprehend  what  the  living  have  acquired  in  the  way  of  advance- 
ment and  hindrance  from  their  parents  and  ancestors ;  for  the 
threads  are  not  always  visible  that  bind  the  existence  of  the  present 
to  the  souls  of  generations  past ;  and  even  where  they  are  discern- 
ible, their  power  and  influence  are  scarcely  to  be  calculated.  Only 
we  notice  that  the  force  with  which  they  operate  is  not  equally  strong 
in  every  life,  and  that  sometimes  it  is  too  powerful  and  terrible. 

"  It  is  well  that  from  us  men  usually  remains  concealed,  what 
is  inheritance  from  the  remote  past,  and  what  the  independent 
acquisition  of  our  own  existence  ;  since  our  life  would  become  full 
of  anxiety  and  misery,  if  we,  as  continuations  of  the  men  of  the 
past,  had  perpetually  to  reckon  with  the  blessings  and  curses  which 
former  times  leave  hanging  over  the  problems  of  our  own  existence. 
But  it  is  indeed  a  joyous  labor,  at  times,  by  a  retrospective  glance 
into  the  past,  to  bring  into  fullest  consciousness  the  fact  that 
many  of  our  successes  and  achievements  have  only  been  made  pos- 
sible through  the  possessions  that  have  come  to  us  from  the  lives" 
of  our  parents,  and  through  that  also  which  the  previous  ancestral 
life  of  our  family  has  accomplished  and  produced  for  us." 


PUBLISHERS'    PREFACE.  ix 

Is  not  this  a  revival  of  the  old  idea  of  the  transmi- 
gration of  souls?  To  be  sure,  the  soul  is  not  a  material 
thing  made  of  an  invisible  and  airy  substance,  fluttering 
about  after  death  and  entering  into  another  body. 
There  are  no  material  migrations  of  soul  taking  place, 
however  tenuous  the  substance  of  the  soul  might  be 
imagined  to  be.  The  memories  of  the  present,  our 
recollection  of  our  past  existence,  depend  on  the  fact 
that  the  living  matter  which  is  constantly  replacing  it- 
self in  us  by  other  living  matter,  like  the  water  in  a 
wave  rolling  on  the  surface  of  the  sea,  always  assumes 
the  same  form.  It  is  the  form  that  is  constantly  repro- 
ducing. In  this  sense,  man  (that  is  his  soul)  is  the  pro- 
duct of  education.  The  soul  of  the  future  man  stands 
in  the  same  relation  to  our  soul  as  the  future  edition  of 
a  book,  revised  and  enlarged,  stands  to  its  present  edi- 
tion.* One  man  impresses  his  modes  of  thought,  his 
habits,  his  methods  of  action,  his  ideals  upon  his  fellow 
men,  and  thus  implants  his  very  soul  into  thejr  lives. 
In  this  sense  a  transmigration  of  souls  is  taking  place 
constantly,  and  he  who  opens  his  eyes  will  see  it.  No 
one  has  given  plainer  examples  of  this  truth  in  the 
pleasant  shape  of  novelistic  narration,  than  Gustav 
Freytag. 

The  Lost  Manuscript  is  in  more  than  one  respect  a 
representative  work,  incorporating  the  spirit  of  the 
times'.  It  is  interesting  from  its  descriptions  of  Univer- 


*  Compare  the  library  scene  in  the  chapter  "A  Day  of   Visits,"  Vol.  i, 
p.  265,  of  this  novel. 


X  PUBLISHERS      1'RKKACK. 

shy  circles,  of  country  life,  and  of  the  vanity  fair 
at  the  smaller  princely  courts  of  Germany.  Yet 
these  interesting  descriptions  gain  in  value,  because 
we  are  taught  by  the  author  to  comprehend  the  secret 
laws  that  rule  the  growth  of,  and  determine  the  hidden 
interconnections  between,  the  souls  of  men. 

The  plot  of  The  Lost  Manuscript,  Gustav  Freytag 
briefly  characterizes  as  follows  : 

"  In  the  upright  soul  of  a  German  scholar,  through  the  wish  to 
discover  something  of  great  worth  for  knowledge,  are  cast  juggling 
shadows,  which,  like  as  moonlight  distorts  the  forms  in  the  land- 
scape, disturb  the  order  of  his  life,  and  are  at  last  overcome  only 
through  painful  experiences." 

Concerning  the  invention  of  the  plot  as  well  as  of 
the  characters  of  The  Lost  Manuscript,  the  following 
account  from  Gustav  Freytag's  Reminiscences  will  be 
of  interest : 

"In  this  story  I  depicted  circles  of  life  that  were  familiar  to 
me  since  student  days  :  the  agricultural  life  of  the  country  and  the 
University  life  of  the  city.  The  reader  will,  I  trust,  discover  in  the 
characterizations  of  the  work,  that  I  have  drawn  cheerfully  and 
unrestrainedly  from  this  life  at  large.  In  the  figures  of  the  academ- 
ical world  he  would  seek  in  vain  for  special  models,  since  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Struvelius,  Raschke,  and  others  are  types  to  whom  in  every 
German  University  single  personalities  will  correspond.  In  the 
character  of  Professor  Werner  my  friend  Haupt  has  been  recog- 
nized. But  one  can  find  in  it  only  so  much  of  the  manner  and 
method  of  Haupt,  as  a  poet  dares  to  take  up  of  the  being  of.  a  real 
man  without  interfering  with  the  freedom  of  artistic  creation,  and 
without  offending  him  through  lack  of  delicacy.  Haupt  him- 
self perceived  with  pleasure  a  certain  remote  resemblance,  and  of 


PUBLISHERS'    PREFACE.  xi 

this  connection  with  the  romance  he  gave  expression  in  his  own 
way;  having  on  several  occasions,  when  sending  me  the  prospectus 
of  his  Berlin  lectures  on  the  Latin  historiographer  Ammianus,  good- 
humoredly  signed  himself  ' '  Magister  Knips, "  which  latter  personage 
plays  a  sorrowful  part  in  the  story,  and  is  only  prevented  from 
hanging  himself  by  the  thought  of  his  professional  researches  in 
the  Latin  author  mentioned. 

"  Some  years  before  the  appearance  of  my  "Debit  and  Credit" 
Haupt  had  unexpectedly  requested  me  to  write  a  novel.  This  ac- 
corded at  that  time  with  secret  designs  of  mine,  and  I  promised 
him.  To  The  Lost  Manuscript  he  contributed,  however,  in  quite 
another  manner.  For  as  we  were  once  sitting  alone  with  one  another 
at  Leipsic,  before  he  was  called  to  Berlin,  he  disclosed  to  me  in  the 
greatest  confidence,  that  somewhere  in  a  small  Westphalian  town 
in  the  loft  of  an  old  house,  lay  the  remains  of  a  convent  library. 
It  was  very  possible  that  among  them  there  was  hidden  a  manu- 
script of  the  lost  Decades  of  Livy.  The  master  of  this  treasure, 
however,  was,  as  Haupt  had  learned,  a  surly  and  quite  inaccessible 
gentleman.  Thereupon  I  put  forward  the  proposition  to  travel  to- 
gether to  the  mysterious  house,  move  the  old  fellow's  heart,  hood- 
wink him,  and,  in  case  of  extreme  necessity,  drink  him  under  the 
table,  to  secure  the  precious  treasure.  As  Haupt  had  sojne  con- 
fidence in  my  powers  of  seduction  when  joined  with  a  good  glass,  he 
declared  himself  agreeable  therewith,  and  we  reveled  in  and  de- 
veloped to  the  fullest  extent  the  pleasure  we  had  in  prospect  of  en- 
larging the  tomes  of  the  Roman  historian  for  a  grateful  posterity. 
Nothing  came  of  the  affair  ;  but  the  remembrance  of  the  intended 
trip  greatly  helped  me  in  developing  the  action  of  the  novel. 

"  In  Leipsic  I  had  lived  a  short  time  on  the  street  nearest  the 
Rosenthal  with  a  hatmaker,  who  manufactured  straw  hats.  Near  to 
him,  as  it  chanced,  was  another  well-known  firm,  which  adminis- 
tered to  the  same  need  of  the  male  sex  by  felt-hats.  This  accident 
suggested  the  invention  of  the  families  Hummel  and  Hahn,  although 
here  also  neither  the  characters  nor  the  hostilities  of  the  two  fam- 


xii  PUBLISHERS      PREFACE. 

ilies  are  copied  from  real  life.  Only  the  incident  is  made  use 
of,  that  my  landlord  took  particular  pleasure  in  decorating  his  gar- 
den by  ever  new  inventions  :  the  White  Muse,  the  Chinese  lanterns, 
and  the  summer-house  by  the  road,  I  have  taken  from  his  little 
garden.  Moreover,  two  characters  of  his  household, — the  very 
ones  which,  by  reason  of  their  mythical  character,  have  given 
offence,  are  exact  copies  of  reality ;  namely,  the  dogs  Fighthahn 
and  Spitehahn.  These  my  landlord  had  bought  at  an  auction  some- 
where to  act  as  warders  of  his  property  ;  they  excited  through  their 
currish  behavior  the  indignation  of  the  whole  street,  until  they 
were  poisoned  by  an  exasperated  neighbor.  Fighthahn  died,  Spite- 
hahn survived  and,  after  that  time,  was  quite  as  bristly  and  misan- 
thropical as  he  is  portrayed  in  the  novel,  so  that  finally  in  con- 
sequence of  the  perpetration  of  numberless  misdeeds  his  owner 
was  obliged  to  banish  him  forever -to  rural  life." 

The  novel,  as  is  the  case  with  every  work  of  prom- 
inence and  influence,  did  not  escape  criticism,  even 
among  the  friends  of  the  author.  In  his  Autobiograph- 
ical Reminiscences,  Gustav  Freytag  refers  to  the  fact. 
He  says  : 

' '  Tfie  Lost  Manuscript  met  with  disapproval  from  many  intimate 
critics  of  mine.  The  sombre  coloring  of  the  last  volume  gave  of- 
fence. It  was  much  objected  that  the  religious  struggles  and  the 
spiritual  development  of  the  heroine  Use  were  not  placed  in  the 
foreground,  and  again  that  Felix  Werner  was  not  more  severely 
punished  for  the  neglect  of  his  duty  towards  his  wife.  But  the 
insanity  of  the  Sovereign  was  especially  objectionable,  and  it  was 
claimed  that  in  our  time  such  a  figure  was  no  longer  possible. 
My  friends  were  wrong  in  this  criticism.  The  Sovereign  and  his 
son  the  Hereditary  Prince  were  also  taken  as  types.  The  former 
represents  the  perverted  development  of  an  earlier  generation 
which  had  sprung  up  from  the  ruin  of  Napoleonic  times ;  the  latter 


PUBLISHERS       PREFACE.  Xlll 

the  restriction   and  narrowness  of  life  in  the  petty  principalities 
that  then  made  up  the  German  nation." 

The  American  public  will  perhaps  feel  the  strength 
of  the  criticism  to  which  Gustav  Freytag  in  the  pas- 
sage quoted  refers,. more  strongly  than  the  European 
friends  of  the  Author.  We  at  least  have  felt  it,  and 
believe  that  almost  all  the  citizens  of  the  New  World 
will  feel  it.  Nevertheless,  considering  all  in  all,  we 
confess  that  Gustav  Freytag  was  fully  justified  in  pre- 
serving these  traces  of  the  national  soul-life  of  Ger- 
many. For  they  form  an  important  link  in  the 
development  of  German  thought,  and  have  cast  dark 
shadows  as  well  as  rays  of  sunlight  over  the  aspira- 
tions of  scientific  progress ;  now  disturbing  it  by  the 
vanity  and  egotism  of  these  petty  sovereigns,  now  pro- 
moting it  by  an  enthusiastic  protection  of  the  ideal 
treasures  of  the  nation.  , 

The  Lost  Manuscript  teaches  us  an  object-lesson 
respecting  the  unity  of  human  soul-life.  Under  the 
masterly  treatment  of  Gustav  Freytag's  ingenious  pen, 
we  become  aware  of  the  invisible  threads  that  inter- 
connect our  thoughts  and  the  actions  prompted  by  our 
thoughts.  We  observe  the  after-effects  of  our  ideas 
and  our  deeds.  Ideas  live  and  develop  not  alone  in 
single  individuals,  but  from  generation  to  generation. 
They  escape  death  and  partake  of  that  life  which 
knows  no  death  :  they  are  immortal. 

Gustav  Freytag,  it  is  true,  did  not  write  his  novel 
with  the  intention  of  teaching  psychology  or  preaching 


Xiv  PUBLISHERS'     PREFACE. 

ethics.  But  the  impartial  description  of  life  does 
teach  ethics,  and  every  poet  is  a  psychologist  in 
the  sense  that  he  portrays  human  souls.  In  a  letter  to 
the  publisher,  Gustav  Freytag  says  : 

".  .  .  .  The  essential  thing  with  the  poet  was  not  the  teach- 
ings that  may  be  drawn  from  the  book,  but  the  joyful  creating  of 
characters  and  events  which  become  possible  and  intelligible 
through  the  persons  depicted.  The  details  he  worked  into  artistic 
unity  under  the  impulsion  of  a  poetical  idea. 

"But  I  may  now  also  express  to  you  how  great  my  pleasure  is 
at  the  agreement  that  exists  between  the  ethical  contents  of  the 
story  (The  Lost  Manuscript)  and  the  world-conception  (Weltan- 
schauung) which  you  labor  to  disseminate.  ..."  (Translated  from 
the  German.) 

The  laws  that  govern  the  warp  and  woof  of  soul-life 
in  its  evolution  hold  good  everywhere,  also  among  us. 
We  also  have  inherited  curses  and  blessings  from  the 
past ;  our  present  is  surrounded  with  dangers,  and  our 
future  is  full  of  bright  hopes,  the  fulfilment  of  which 
mainly  depends  upon  our  own  efforts  in  realizing  our 
ideals. 


r^ 

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CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER    I. 
A  DISCOVERY 


CHAPTER   II. 
THE  HOSTILE  NEIGHBORS    . 


CHAPTER   III. 
A  FOOL'S  ERRAND 40 

CHAPTER   IV. 
THE  OLD  HOUSE 62 

CHAPTER   V. 
AMONG  HERDS  AND  SHEAVES  84 


CHAPTER   VI. 
A  LEARNED  LADY  FROM  THE   COUNTRY no 

CHAPTER   VII. 

NEW  HOSTILITIES 130 

CHAPTER   VIII. 
TACITUS  AGAIN 1: 


CHAPTER    IX. 


ILSE 


170 


( 


XVI  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER    X.  PAGE 

THE  WOOING    .     .     .     .     ;     .     ...    .     ,     .     .     .     .     .     .     192 

CHAPTER  XI. 
SPITEHAHN    ..;.::....   • ;     .......     207 

CHAPTER   XII. 
THE  DEPARTURE  FROM  THE  ESTATE      . 226 

CHAPTER   XIII. 
THE  FIRST  GREETINGS  OF  THE  CITY     .     .     .     .     .     .  •  .     ..     235 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
A  DAY  OF  VISITS .'....     .     .     ...     .     253 

CHAPTER   XV. 
AMONG  THE  LEARNED     .     ..     .     .     .     .     .     .     ...     .  270 

CHAPTER   XVI. 
THE  PROFESSORS'  BALL       .     .     ....     .     .     .-.''.     .     .     291 

CHAPTER   XVII. 
THE  DECEPTION  OF  MR.  HUMMEL    .     .     .     .-.'....     318 

CHAPTER    XVIII. 
CLOUDLETS        .     .*    .     .     ....     .     ,    -.     .•    .     ~  346 

CHAPTER   XIX. 
THE  ILLNESS     .     ;     .    •„     .     .     .     ...     .     .     .  ,57 

CHAPTER   XX. 
A  COURT  MATTER      .     ...     .    •.     ...      '.-*'  c 


CHAPTER  I. 
A    DISCOVERY. 

IT  is  late  evening  in  the  forest-park  of  our  town. 
Softly  the  foliage  murmurs  in  the  warm  summer  air 
and  the  chirping  of  the  crickets  in  the  distant  mead- 
ows is  heard  far  in  among  the  trees. 

Through  the  tree- tops  a  pale  light  falls  down  upon 
the  forest-path  and  upon  the  dark  undergrowth  of  bush 
and  shrubbery.  The  moon  sprinkles  the  pathway  with 
shimmering  spots,  and  kindles  strange  lights  in  the 
mass  of  leaves  and  branches.  Here,  the  blue  streaks 
of  light  pour  down  from  the  tree-trunks  like  streams 
of  burning  spirits  ;  there,  in  the  hollow,  the  broad 
fern-branches  gleam  from  out  the  darkness  in  colors 
of  emerald- gold,  and  over  the  pathway  the  withered 
boughs  tower  like  huge  whitened  antlers.  But  be- 
tween and  beneath,  impenetrable,  Stygian  gloom. 
Round-faced  moon  in  heaven,  thine  attempts  to  light 
this  wood  of  ours  are  feeble,  sickly,  and  capricious. 
Pray  keep  thy  scanty  light  upon  the  highway  leading 
to  the  city ;  throw  thy  faded  beams  not  so  crookedly 
before  us,  for  at  the  left  the  ground  slopes  precipitately 
into  morass  and  water. 

Fie,  thou  traitor  !  Plump  in  the  swamp  and  the  way- 
farer's shoebehind  !  But  that  might  have  been  expected. 
Deceit  and  treachery  are  thy  favorite  pastimes,  thou 
wayward  freak  of  heaven.  People  wonder  now  that  men 
of  primitive  times  made  a  God  of  thee.  The  Grecian 


2  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

girl  once  called  thee  Selene,  and  wreathed  thy  cup 
with  purple  poppies,  by  thy  magic  to  lure  back  the 
faithless  lover  to  her  door.  But  that  is  now  all  over. 
We  have  science  and  phosphorus,  and  thou  hast  de- 
generated into  a  wretched  old  Juggler.  A  Juggler! 
And  people  show  thee  too  much  consideration,  to  treat 
thee  as  a  thing  of  life  even.  What  art  thou,  anyhow  ? 
A  ball  of  burnt  out  slag,  blistered,  airless,  colorless, 
waterless.  A  ball  ?  Why  our  scientists  know  that 
thou  art  not  even  round — caught  in  a  lie  again  !  We 
people  on  the  earth  have  pulled  thee  out  of  shape. 
In  truth  thou  art  pointed,  thou  hast  a  wretched  and 
unsymmetrical  figure.  Thou'rt  a  sort  of  big  turnip 
that  dances  about  us  in  perennial  slavery — nothing 
more. 

The  wood  opens.  Between  the  wayfarer  and  the 
city  extends  a  broad  stretch  of  lawn,  and  in  the  centre 
a  large  pond.  Welcome,  thou  dale  of  verdure  !  Well- 
kept  paths  of  gravel  lead  over  the  forest  meadow  ; 
here  and  there  a  clump  of  waving  undergrowth 
is  seen,  and  beneath  it  a  garden -bench.  Here  the 
well-to-do  citizen  sits  of  an  afternoon,  and  resting 
his  hands  upon  the  bamboo-cane  that  he  carries, 
looks  proudly  over  upon  the  towers  of  his  loved  city. 

Is  the  meadow,  too,  transformed  to-day  ?  A  swell- 
ing expanse  of  water  seems  to  lie  before  the  wayfarer  ; 
it  seethes  and  bubbles  and  plays  about  his  feet,  in 
endless  masses  of  mist,  as  far  as  the  eye  can  reach. 
What  army  of  hobgoblins  do  lave  their  garments 
here  !  They  flutter  from  trees,  they  course  through 
the  air,  faint  in  outline,  now  dissolving,  now  inter- 
mingling. Higher  the  dim,  dark  figures  soar.  They 
float  above  the  wayfarer's  head.  The  gloomy  mass  of 
forest  disappears.  The  very  vault  of  heaven  itself  is 


.A    DISCOVERY.  3 

lost  in  the  misty  darkness,  and  every  visible  outline 
sinks  in  the  chaos  of  paling  light  and  floating  shape- 
lessness.  The  solid  earth  still  stays  beneath  the  feet 
of  our  traveler,  and  yet  he  moves  on,  separated  from 
all  actual  earthly  forms,  amid  glimmering  bodiless 
shadows.  Here  and  there,  the  floating  illusions  again 
gather.  Slowly  the  phantoms  of  air  sweep  through 
the  veil  that  encompasses  our  wayfarer.  Now  the  bent 
figure  of  a  woman  in  prayer  presses  forward,  broken 
with  sorrow ;  now.  a  troop  in  long,  waving  robes 
appears,  as  of  Roman  Senators,  with  emperor,  halo- 
encircled,  at  their  head.  But  halo  and  head  dissolve, 
and  the  huge  shadow  glides,  headless  and  ghostly,  by. 

Mist  of  a  watery  meadow,  who  hath  so  bewitched 
thee  ?  Who  else  but  that  aged  trickster  of  heaven, 
the  moon,  the  mischief-maker  moon. 

Retreat,  illusory  shadows !  The  low-ground  is 
passed.  Lighted  windows  shine  before  the  wayfarer. 
Two  stately  houses  loom  up  at  the  city's  outskirts. 
Here  dwell  two  men — taxpayers,  active  workers. 
They  wrap  themselves,  at  night,  in  warm  blankets, 
and  not  in  thy  watery  tapestries,  Moon,  woven  of 
misty  drops  that  trickle  from  beard  and  hair.  They 
have  their  whims  and  their  virtues,  and  estimate  thy 
value,  O  Moon,  exactly  in  proportion  to  the  gas  saved 
by  thy  light. 

A  lamp,  placed  close  to  the  window,  shines  from 
one  of  the  upper  rooms  in  the  house  on  the  left  hand. 
.  Here  lives  Professor  Felix  Werner;  a  learned  philolo- 
gist, still  a  young  man,  who  has  already  gained  a  repu- 
tation. He  sits  at  his  study  table  and  examines  old, 
faded  manuscripts — an  attractive  looking  man  of  me- 
dium size,  with  dark,  curly  hair  falling  over  a  massive 
head;  there  is  nothing  paltry  about  him.  Clear,  honest 


4  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

eyes  shine  from  under  the  dark  eyebrows;  the  nose  is 
slightly  arched;  the  muscles  of  the  mouth  are  strongly 
developed,  as  might  be  expected  of  the  popular  teacher 
of  young  students.  Just  now  a  soft  smile  spreads  over 
it,  and  his  cheeks  redden  either  from  his  work  or  from 
inward  emotion. 

The  Professor  suddenly  left  his  work  and  paced 
restlessly  up  and  down  the  room.  He  then  approached 
a  window  which  looked  out  on  the  neighboring  house, 
placed  two  large  books  on  the  window  sill,  laid  a 
small  one  upon  them,  and  thus  produced  a  figure 
which  resembled  a  Greek  n,  and  which,  from  the  light 
shining  behind  became  visible  to  the  eye  in  the  house 
opposite.  After  he  had  arranged  this  signal,  he  has- 
tened back  to  the  table  and  again  bent  over  his 
book. 

The  servant  entered  gently  to  remove  the  supper, 
which  had  been  placed  on  a  side  table.  Finding  the 
food  untouched,  he  looked  with  displeasure  at  the  Pro- 
fessor, and  for  a  long  while  remained  standing  behind 
the  vacant  chair.  At  length,  assuming  a  military  at- 
titude, he  said,  "  Professor,  you  have  forgotten  your 
supper." 

"  Clear  the  table,  Gabriel,"  said  the  Professor. 

Gabriel  showed  no  disposition  to  move.  "  Pro- 
fessor, you  should  at  least  eat  a  bit  of  cold  meat. 
Nothing  can  come  of  nothing,"  he  added,  kindly. 

"It  is  not  right  that  you  should  come  in  and  dis- 
turb me." 

Gabriel  took  the  plate  and  carried  it  to  his  master. 
"Pray,  Professor,  take  at  least  a  few  mouthfuls." 

"Give  it  to  me  then,"  said  he,  and  began  to  eat. 

Gabriel  made  use  of  the  time  during  which  his 
master  unavoidably  paused  in  his  intellectual  occupa- 


A    DISCOVERY.  5 

tion,  to  offer  a  respectful  admonition.  "My  late  Cap- 
tain thought  much  of  a  good  supper." 

"But  now  you  have  changed  into  the  civil  service," 
answered  the  Professor,  laughing. 

"  It  is  not  right,"  continued  Gabriel,  pertinaciously, 
"that  I  should  eat  the  roast  that  I  bring  for  you." 

"I  hope  you  are  now  satisfied,"  answered  the  Pro- 
fessor, pushing  the  plate  back  to  him. 

Gabriel  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  You  have  at 
least  done  your  best.  The  Doctor  was  not  at  home." 

"So  it  appears.  See  to  it  that  the  front-door  re- 
mains open." 

Gabriel  turned  about  and  went  away  with  the  plate. 

The  scholar  was  again  alone.  The  golden  light  of 
the  lamp  fell  on  his  countenance  and  on  the  books 
which  lay  around  him;  the  white  pages  rustled  under 
his  hand;  and  his  features  worked  with  strong  excite- 
ment. 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  door;  the  expected  visitor 
entered. 

"Good  evening,  Fritz,"  said  the  Professor  to  his 
visitor;  "sit  in  my  chair,  and  look  here." 

The  guest,  a  man  of  slender  form,  with  delicate 
features,  and  wearing  spectacles,  seated  himself  at  the 
bidding  of  his  friend,  and  seized  a  little  book  which  lay 
in  the  middle  of  a  number  of  open  volumes  of  every  age 
and  size.  With  the  eye  of  a  connoisseur  he  examined 
the  first  cover — discolored  parchment,  upon  which  were 
written  old  church  hymns  with  the  accompanying  music. 
He  cast  a  searching  glance  on  the  inside  of  the  binding, 
and  inspected  the  strips  of  parchment  by  which  the 
poorly-preserved  back  of  the  book  was  joined  to  the 
cover.  He  then  examined  the  first  page  of  the  con- 
tents, on  which,  in  faded  characters,  was  written,  "  The 


6  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

Life  of  the  Holy  Hildegard."  "The  handwriting  is 
that  of  a  writer  of  the  fifteenth  century,"  he  ex- 
claimed, and  looked  inquiringly  at  his  friend. 

"  It  is  not  on  that  account  that  I  show  you  the  old 
book.  Look  further.  The  Life  is  followed  by  prayers, 
a  number  of  recipes  and  household  regulations,  written 
in  various  hands,  even  before  the  time  of  Luther.  I 
had  bought  this  manuscript  for  you,  thinking  you 
might  perhaps  find  material  for  your  legends  and 
popular  superstitions.  But  on  looking  through  it,  I 
met  with  the  following  passage  on  one  of  the  last 
pages,  and  I  cannot  yet  part  with  the  volume.  It 
seems  that  the  book  has  been  used  in  a  monastery 
by  many  generations  of  monks  to  note  down  me- 
moranda, for  on  this  page  there  is  a  catalogue  of  all 
the  church  treasures  of  the  Monastery  of  Rossau.  It 
was  a  poverty-stricken  cloister;  the  inventory  is  either 
small  or  incomplete.  It  was  made  by  an  ignorant 
monk,  and,  as  the  writing  testifies,  about  the  year 
1500.  See,  here  are  entered  church-utensils  and  a  few 
ecclesiastical  vestments;  and  further  on  some  theo- 
logical manuscripts  of  the  monastery,  of  no  impor- 
tance to  us,  but  amongst  them  the  following  title: 
'  Das  alt  tmgehur  puoch  von  ussfahrt  des  swigers.'  " 

The  Doctor  examined  the  words  with  curiosity. 
"That  sounds  like  the  title  of  a  tale  of  chivalry.  And 
what  do  the  words  themselves  mean  !  'The  old,  im- 
mense book  of  the  exit  or  departure  of  the  swtger.' 
Does  swiger  here  mean  son-in-law  or  a  tacit  man?" 

"Let  us  try  to  solve  the  riddle,"  continued  the  Pro- 
fessor, with  sparkling  eyes,  pointing  with  his  finger  to 
the  same  page.  "A  later  hand  has  added  in  Latin, 
'This  book  is  Latin,  almost  illegible;  it  begins  with 
the  words  lacrimas  et  signa,  and  ends  with  the  words — 


A    DISCOVERY.  7 

here  concludes  the  history. — actorum — thirtieth  book.' 
Now  guess." 

The  Doctor  looked  at  the  excited  features  of  his 
friend.  "  Do  not  keep  me  in  suspense.  The  first 
words  sound  very  promising,  but  they  are  not  a  title; 
some  pages  in  the  beginning  may  be  deficient." 

"Just  so,"  answered  the  Professor,  with  satisfac- 
tion. "  We  may  assume  that  one  or  two  pages  are 
missing.  In  the  fifth  chapter  of  the  Annals  of  Tacitus 
there  are  the  words  lacrimas  et  signa." 

The  Doctor  sprang  up,  and  a  flush  of  joy  over- 
spread his  face. 

"  Sit  down,"  continued  the  Professor,  forcing  his 
friend  back  into  the  chair.  "  The  old  title  of  the  An- 
nals of  Tacitus,  when  translated,  appears  literally 
'Tacitus,  beginning  with  the  death  of  the  divine 
Augustus.'  Well,  an  ignorant  monk  deciphered  per- 
haps the  first  Latin  words  of  the  title,  'Taciti  ab  ex- 
cessuj  and  endeavored  to  translate  it  into  German; 
he  was  pleased  to  know  that  tacitus  meant  schweigsam 
(silent),  but  had  never  heard  of  the  Roman  historian, 
and  rendered  it  in  these  words,  literally,  as  '  From  the 
exit  of  the  tacit  man,'  " 

"Excellent!"  exclaimed  the  Doctor.  "And  the 
monk,  delighted  with  the  successful  translation,  wrote 
the  title  on  the  manuscript  ?  Glorious!  the  manuscript 
was  a  Tacitus." 

"Hear  further,"  proceeded  the  Professor.  "In  the 
third  and  fourth  century  A.  D.,  both  the  great  works 
of  Tacitus,  the  'Annals'  and  'History,'  were  united  in 
a  collection  under  the  title,  '  Thirty  Books  of  History.' 
For  this  we  have  other  ancient  testimony.  Look  here !  " 

The  Professor  found  well-known  passages,  and 
placed  them  before  his  friend.  "  And,  again,  at  the 


$  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

end  of  the  manuscript  record  there  were  these  words: 
«  Here  ends  the  Thirtieth  Book  of  the  History.'  There 
remains,  therefore,  no  doubt  that  this  manuscript  was 
a  Tacitus.  And  looking  at  the  thing  as  a  whole,  the 
following  appears  to  have  been  the  case.  There  was, 
at  the  time  of  the  Reformation,  a  manuscript  of  Tacitus 
in  the  Monastery  of  Rossau,  the  beginning  of  which 
was  missing.  It  was  old  and  injured  by  time,  and 
almost  illegible  to  the  eyes  of  the  monks." 

"  There  must  have  been  something  peculiar  at- 
taching to  the  book,"  interrupted  the  Doctor,  "for  the 
monk  designates  it  by  the  expression,  '  Ungeheuer? 
which  conveys  the  meaning  of  strange,  monstrous." 

"It  is  true,"  agreed  the  Professor.  ""We  may 
assume  that  some  monastic  tradition  which  has  at- 
tached to  the  book,  or  an  old  prohibition  to  read  it, 
or,  more  probably,  the  unusual  aspect  of  its  cover,  or 
its  size,  has  given  rise  to  this  expression.  The  ma- 
nuscript contains  both  the  historical  works  of  Tacitus, 
the  books  of  which  were  numbered  consecutively.  And 
we,"  he  added,  in  his  excitement  throwing  the  book 
which  he  held  in  his  hand  on  the  table,  "  we  no  longer 
possess  this  manuscript.  Neither  of  the  historical  works 
of  the  great  Roman  have  been  preserved  in  its  en- 
tirety ;  for  the  sum  of  all  the  gaps  would  fully  equal 
one-half  of  what  has  come  down  to  us." 

The  Professor's  friend  paced  the  room  hurriedly. 
"This  is  one  of  the  discoveries  that  quicken  the  blood 
in  one's  veins.  Gone  and  lost  forever !  It  is  ex- 
asperating to  think  how  nearly  such  a  precious  treasure 
of  antiquity  was  preserved  to  us.  It  has  escaped  fire, 
devastation,  and  the  perils  of  cruel  war;  it  was  still  in 
existence  when  the  dawn  of  a  new  civilization  burst 
upon  us,  happily  concealed  and  unheeded,  in  the  Ger- 


A    DISCOVERY.  9 

man  monastery,  not  many  miles  from  the  great  high 
road  along  which  the  humanists  wandered,  with  visions 
of  Roman  glory  in  their  minds,  seeking  after  every 
relic  of  the  Roman  times.  Universities  flourished  in 
the  immediate  vicinitv ;  and  how  easily  could  one  of 
the  friars  of  Rossau  have  informed  the  students  of  their 
treasure.  It  seems  incomprehensible  that  not  one  of 
the  many  scholars  of  the  country  should  have  obtained 
information  concerning  the  book,  and  pointed  out  to 
the  monks  the  value  of  such  a  memorial.  But,  in- 
stead of  this,  it  is  possible  that  some  contemporary  of 
Erasmus  and  Melanchthon,  some  poor  monk,  sold  the 
manuscript  to  a  book-binder,  and  strips  of  it  may  still 
adhere  to  some  old  book-cover.  But,  even  in  this 
case,  the  discovery  is  important.  Evidently  this  little 
book  has  occasioned  you  much  painful  pleasure." 

The  Professor  clasped  the  hand  of  his  friend,  and 
each  looked  into  the  honest  countenance  of  the  other. 
"Let  us  assume,"  concluded  the  Doctor,  sorrowfully, 
"  that  the  old  hereditary  enemy  of  preserved  treasures, 
fire,  had  consumed  the  manuscript — is  it  not  childish 
that  we  should  feel  the  loss  as  if  it  had  occurred  to- 
day ?  " 

"Who  tells  us  that  the  manuscript  is  irretrievably 
lost?"  rejoined  the  Professor,  with  suppressed  emo- 
tion. "  Once  more  consult  the  book  ;  it  can  tell  us  also 
of  the  fate  of  the  manuscript." 

The  Doctor  rushed  to  the  table,  and  seized  the  little 
book  of  the  Holy  Hildegard. 

"  Here,  after  the  catalogue,"  said  the  Professor, 
showing  him  the  last  page  of  the  book,  "  there  is  still 
more." 

The  Doctor  fixed  his  eyes  on  the  page.  Latin 
characters  without  meaning  or  break  were  written  in 


10  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT.  . 

seven  successive  lines;  under  them  was  a  name — F. 
Tobias  Bachhuber. 

"  Compare  these  letters  with  the  Latin  annotation 
under  the  title  of  the  mysterious  manuscript.  It  is  un- 
doubtedly the  same  hand,  firm  characters  of  the  seven- 
teenth century;  compare  the  's,'  <r,'  and  'f.'  " 

"  It  is  the  same  hand !"  exclaimed  the  Doctor  with 
satisfaction. 

"These  unmeaning  letters  are  a  cipher,  such  as 
was  used  in  the  seventeenth  century.  In  that  case  it 
is  easily  solved ;  each  letter  is  exchanged  with  the  one 
that  follows.  On  this  bit  of  paper  I  have  put  together 
the  Latin  words.  The  translation  is,  '  On  the  ap- 
proach of  the  ferocious  Swedes,  in  order  to  withdraw 
the  treasures  of  our  monastery  from  the  search  of 
these  roaring  devils,  I  have  deposited  them  all  in  a 
dry,  hollow  place  in  the  Manor  of  Bielstein.'  The  day 
Quasimodogeniti  37 — that  is  on  the  igth  April,  1637. 
What  do  you  say  now,  Fritz?  It  appears  from  this 
that  in  the  time  of  the  Thirty  Years'  War  the  manu- 
script had  not  been  burned,  for  Frater  Tobias  Bach- 
huber— blest  be  his  memory ! — had  at  that  time  vouch- 
safed to  look  upon  it  with  some  consideration,  and  as 
in  the  record  he  had  favored  it  with  an  especial  re- 
mark, he  probably  did  not  leave  it  behind  in  his  flight. 
The  mysterious  manuscript  was  thus  in  the  Monastery 
of  Rossau  till  1637,  and  the  friar,  in  the  April  of  that 
year,  concealed  it  and  other  goods  from  the  Swedes 
in  a  hollow  and  dry  spot  in  Manor  Bielstein." 

"  Now  the  matter  becomes  serious  !"  cried  the  Doc- 
tor. 

"  Yes,  it  is  serious,  my  friend  ;  it  is  not  impossible 
that  the  manuscript  may  still  lie  concealed  some- 
where." 


A    DISCOVERY.  II 

"And  Manor  Bielstein?" 

"  Lies  near  the  little  town  of  Rossau.  The  monas- 
tery was  in  needy  circumstances,  and  under  ecclesias- 
tical protection  till  the  Thirt)7  Years'  War.  In  1637 
the  town  and  monastery  were  desolated  by  the  Swedes; 
the  last  monks  disappeared  and  the  monastery  was 
never  again  re-established.  That  is  all  I  have  been 
able  to  learn  up  to  this  time ;  for  anything  further  I 
request  your  help." 

"  The  next  question  will  be  whether  the  manor- 
house  outlasted  the  war,"  answered  the  Doctor,  "  and 
what  has  become  of  it  now.  It  will  be  more  difficult 
to  ascertain  where  Brother  Tobias  Bachhuber  ended 
his  days,  and  most  difficult  of  all  to  discover  through 
what  hands  his  little  book  has  reached  us." 

"  I  obtained  the  book  from  a  second-hand  dealer 
here;  it  was  a  new  acquisition,  and  not  yet  entered  in 
his  catalogue.  To-morrow  I  will  obtain  all  further 
information  that  the  book-seller  may  be  able  to  give. 
It  will,  perhaps,  be  worth  while  to  investigate  further," 
he  continued,  more  coolly,  endeavoring  to  restrain  his 
intense  excitement  by  a  little  rational  reflection.  "  More 
than  two  centuries  have  elapsed  since  that  cipher  was 
written  by  the  friar;  during  that  period  destructive 
agencies  were  not  less  active  than  before.  Just  think 
of  the  war  and  devastation  of  the  years  when  the 
cloister  was  destroyed.  And  so  we  are  no  better  off 
than  if  the  manuscript  had  been  lost  several  centuries 
previously." 

"And  yet  the  probability  that  the  manuscript  is 
preserved  to  the  present  day  increases  with  every 
century,"  interposed  the  Doctor;  "for  the  number  of 
men  who  would  value  such  a  discovery  has  increased 


12  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

so  much  since  -that  war,   that   destruction  from  rude 
ignorance  has  become  almost  inconceivable." 

"  We  must  not  trust  too  much  to  the  knowledge  of 
the  present  day,"  said  the  Professor;  "but  if  it  were 
so,"  he  continued,  his  eyes  flashing,  "if  the  imperial 
history  of  the  first  century,  as  written  by  Tacitus,  were 
restored  by  a  propitious  fate,  it  would  be  a  gift  so 
great  that  the  thought  of  the  possibility  of  it  might 
well,  like  Roman  wine,  intoxicate  an  honest  man." 

"  Invaluable,"  assented  the  Doctor,  "  for  our  knowl- 
edge of  the  language,  and  for  a  hundred  particulars  of 
Roman  history." 

"  And  for  the  early  history  of  Germany  !  "  exclaimed 
the  Professor. 

Both  traversed  the  room  with  rapid  steps,  shook 
hands,  and  looked  at  each  other  joyfully. 

"And  if  a  fortunate  accident  should  put  us  on  the 
track  of  this  manuscript,"  began  Fritz,  "  if  through  you 
it  should  be  restored  to  the  light  of  day,  you,  my  friend, 
you  are  best  fitted  to  edit  it.  The  thought  that  you 
would  experience  such  a  pleasure,  and  that  a  work  of 
such  renown  would  fall  to  your  lot,  makes  me  happier 
than  I  can  say." 

"If  we  can  find  the  manuscript,"  answered  the 
Professor,  "we  must  edit  it  together." 

"Together?"  exclaimed  Fritz,  with  surprise. 
"Yes,  together,"  said  the  Professor,  with  decision  ; 
"it  would  make  your  ability  widely  known." 

Fritz  drew  back.  "  How  can  you  think  that  I  would 
be  so  presumptuous?" 

"  Do  not  contradict  me,"  exclaimed  the  Professor, 
"you  are  perfectly  qualified  for  it." 

"That  I  am  not,"  answered  Fritz,  firmly  ;  "and  I 
am  too  proud  to  undertake  anything  for  which  I  should 


A    DISCOVERY.  13 

have  to  thank  your  kindness  more  than  my  own 
powers." 

"That  is  undue  modesty,"  again  exclaimed  the 
Professor. 

"I  shall  never  do  it,"  answered  Fritz.  "I  could 
not  for  one  moment  think  of  adorning  myself  before 
the  public  with  borrowed  plumage." 

"I  know  better  than  you,"  said  the  Professor, 
indignantly,  "what  you  are  able  to  do,  and  what  is  to 
your  advantage." 

"  At  all  events,  I  would  never  agree  that  you 
should  have  the  lion's  share  of  the  labor  and  secretly 
be  deprived  of  the  reward.  Not  my  modesty,  but  my 
self-respect  forbids  this.  And  this  feeling  you  ought 
to  respect,"  concluded  Fritz,  with  great  energy. 

"Now,"  returned  the  Professor,  restraining  his 
excited  feelings,  "we  are  behaving  like  the  man  who 
bought  a  house  and  field  with  the  money  procured  by 
the  sale  of  a  calf  which  was  not  yet  born.  Be  calm, 
Fritz  ;  neither  I  nor  you  shall  edit  the  manuscript." 

"And  we  shall  never  know  how  the  Roman  Em- 
peror treated  the  ill-fated  Thusnelda  and  Thumelicus  !  " 
said  Fritz,  sympathizingly  to  his  friend. 

"  But  it  is  not  the  absence  of  such  particulars,"  said 
the  Professor,  "that  makes  the  loss  of  the  manuscript 
so  greatly  felt,  for  the  main  facts  may  be  obtained 
from  other  sources.  The  most  important  point  will 
always  be,  that  Tacitus  was  the  first,  and  in  many  re- 
spects is  the  only,  historian  who  has  portrayed  the 
most  striking  and  gloomy  phases  of  human  nature. 
His  works  that  are  extant  are  two  historical  tragedies, 
scenes  in  the  Julian  and  Flavian  imperial  houses — 
fearful  pictures  of  the  enormous  change  which,  in  the 
course  of  a  century,  took  place  in  the  greatest  city  of 


14  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

antiquity,  in  the  character  of  its  emperors  and  the 
souls  of  their  subjects — the  history  of  tyrannical  rule, 
which  exterminated  a  noble  race,  destroyed  a  high  and 
rich  civilization,  and  degraded,  with  few  exceptions, 
even  the  rulers  themselves.  We  have,  even  up  to  the 
present  day,  scarcely  another  work  whose  author  looks 
so  searchingly  into  the  souls  of  a  whole  succession  of 
princes,  and  which  describes  so  acutely  and  accu- 
rately the  ruin  which  was  wrought  in  different  natures 
by  the  fiendish  and  distempered  minds  of  rulers." 

"It  always  makes  me  angry,"  said  the  Doctor, 
"when  I  hear  him  reproached  as  having  for  the  most 
part  written  only  imperial  and  court  history.  Who 
can  expect  grapes  from  a  cypress,  and  satisfactory  en- 
joyment in  the  grand  public  life  of  a  man  who,  during 
a  great  portion  of  his  manhood,  daily  saw  before  his 
eyes  the  dagger  and  poison-cup  of  a  mad  despot?" 

"Yes,"  agreed  the  Professor,  "Tacitus  belonged 
to  the  aristocracy — a  body  unfit  to  rule,  and  unwilling 
to  obey.  In  the  consciousness  of  their  privileged 
position  they  were  the  indispensable  servants,  while 
still  the  enemies  and  the  rivals,  of  their  sovereigns.  In 
them  the  virtues  and  the  vices  of  a  mighty  epoch  grew 
to  monstrous  manifestations.  Who  but  one  of  their 
own  circle  should  write  the  history  of  Roman  imperial- 
ism ?  The  blackest  crimes  were  concealed  behind  the 
stone  walls  of  palaces  ;  rumor,  the  low  murmur  of  the 
antechamber,  the  lurking  look  of  concealed  hatred, 
were  often  the  only  sources  the  historian  could  com- 
mand." 

"All  that  remains  for  us  to  do  is  discreetly  to  accept 
the  judgment  of  the  man  who  has  handed  down  to  us 
information  concerning  this  strange  condition  of  things. 
Moreover,  whoever  studies  the  fragments  of  Tacitus 


A    DISCOVERY.  15 

that  have  been  preserved,  impartially  and  intelligently, 
will  honor  and  admire  his  profound  insight  irito  the 
inmost  depths  of  Roman  character.  It  is  an  expe- 
rienced statesman,  of  a  powerful  and  truthful  mind,  re- 
lating the  secret  history  of  his  time  so  clearly  that  we 
understand  the  men  and  all  their  doings  as  if  we  our- 
selves had  the  opportunity  of  reading  their  hearts. 
He  who  .can  do  this  for  later  centuries  is  not  only  a 
great  historian  but  a  great  man.  And  for  such  I  always 
felt  a  deep,  heartfelt  reverence,  and  I  consider  it  the 
duty  of  a  true  critic  to  clear  such  a  character  from  the 
attacks  of  petty  minds." 

"  Hardly  one  of  his  contemporaries,"  said  the  Doc- 
tor, "has  felt  the  poverty  of  his  epoch's  civilization 
as  deeply  as  himself." 

"Yes,"  rejoined  the  Professor,  "he  was  a  genuine 
man,  so  far  as  was  possible  in  his  time ;  and  that  is, 
after  all,  the  main  point.  For  what  we  must  demand, 
is  not  the  amount  of  knowledge  for  which  we  have  to 
thank  a  great  man,  but  his  own  personality,  which, 
through  what  he  has  produced  for  us,  becomes  a  por- 
tion of  ourselves.  Thus  the  spirit  of  Aristotle  is  some- 
thing different  to  us  than  the  substance  of  his  teach- 
ing. For  us  Sophocles  signifies  much  more  than  seven 
tragedies.  His  manner  of  thinking  and  feeling,  his 
perception  of  the  beautiful  and  the  good,  ought  to  be- 
come part  of  our  life.  Only  in  this  way  does  the  study 
of  the  past  healthily  influence  our  actions  and  our  as- 
pirations. In  this  sense  the  sad  and  sorrowful  soul  of 
Tacitus  is  far  more  to  me  than  his  delineation  of  the 
Emperor's  madness.  And  ybu  see,  Fritz,  it  is  on  this 
account  that  your  Sanskrit  and  Hindu  languages  are 
not  satisfactory  to  me — the  men  are  wanting  in  them." 

"It  is,  at  least,  difficult  for  us  to  recognize  them," 


i6 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


answered  his  friend.  "But  one  who,  like  you,  ex- 
plains Homer's  epics  to  students,  should  not  under- 
value the  charm  that  lies  in  sounding  the  mysterious 
depths  of  human  activity,  when  a  youthful  nation  con- 
ceals from  our  view  the  work  of  the  individual  man, 
and  when  the  people  itself  comes  before  us  in  poetry, 
traditions,  and  law,  assuming  the  shape  of  a  living  in- 
dividuality." 

"He  who  only  engages  in  such  researches,"  an- 
swered the  Professor,  eagerly,  "soon  becomes  fantas- 
tic and  visionary.  The  study  of  such  ancient  times 
acts  like  opium,  and  he  who  lingers  all  his  life  in  such 
studies  will  hardly  escape  vagaries." 

Fritz  rose.  "That  is  our  old  quarrel.  I  know  you 
do  not  wish  to  speak  harshly  to  me,  but  I  feel  that  you 
intend  this  for  me." 

"And  am  I  wrong?"  continued  the  Professor.  "I 
undoubtedly  have  a  respect  for  every  intellectual  work, 
but  I  desire  for  my  friend  that  which  will  be  most  bene- 
ficial to  him.  Your  investigations  into  Hindu  and 
German  mythology  entice  you  from  one  problem  to 
another  ;  youthful  energies  should  not  linger  in  the 
endless  domain  of  indistinct  contemplations  and  unreal 
shadows.  Come  to  a  decision  for  other  reasons  also. 
It  does  not  behoove  you  to  be  merely  a  private  stu- 
dent ;  such  a  life  is  too  easy  for  you ;  you  need  the  out- 
ward pressure  of  definite  duties.  You  have  many  of 
the  qualities  requisite  for  a  professor.  Do  not  remain 
in  your  parents'  house ;  you  must  become  a  university 
lecturer." 

A  heightened  color  spread  slowly  over  the  face  of 
his  friend.  "Enough, "he  exclaimed,  vexed  ;  "if  I 
have  thought  too  little  of  my  future,  you  should  not 
reproach  me  for  it'  It  has  perhaps  been  too  great  a 


A    DISCOVERY.  17 

pleasure  to  me  to  be  your  companion  ana  the  confi- 
dant of  your  successful  labors.  I  also,  from  my  inter- 
course with  you,  have  enjoyed  that  pleasure  which  an 
intellectual  man  bestows  upon  all  who  participate  in 
his  creations.  Good  night." 

The  Professor  approached  him,  and  seizing  both 
his  hands,  exclaimed,  "Stay!  Are  you  angry  with  me?" 

"No,"  answered  Fritz,  "but  I  am  going;  "and  he 
closed  the  door  gently. 

The  Professor  paced  up  and  down  excitedly,  re- 
proaching himself  for  his  vehemence.  At  length  he 
violently  threw  the  books  which  had  served  as  a  sig- 
nal back  on  the  shelf,  and  again  seated  himself  at  his 
desk. 

Gabriel  lighted  the  Doctor  down  the  stairs,  opened 
the  door,  and  shook  his  head  when  he  heard  his  "  Good 
night "  curtly  answered.  He  extinguished  the  light 
and  listened  at  his  master's  door.  When  he  heard  the 
Professor's  steps,  he  determined  to  refresh  himself  by 
the  mild  evening  air,  and  descended  into  the  little 
garden.  There  he  met  Mr.  Hummel,  who  was  walking 
under  the  Professor's  windows.  Mr.  Hummel  was  a 
broad-shouldered  gentleman,  with  a  large  head  and  a 
determined  face,  portly  and  well-preserved,  of  the 
honest  old  Saxon  type.  He  smoked  a  long  pipe,  with 
a  huge  mouth-piece,  which  was  divided  into  a  number 
of  capacious  compartments. 

"  A  fine  evening,  Gabriel,"  began  Mr.  Hummel, 
"a  good  season  ;  what  a  harvest  we  shall  have  !  "  He 
nudged  the  servant.  "  Has  anything  happened  up 
there?  The  window  is  open,"  he  concluded  signific- 
antly, and  disapprovingly  shook  his  head. 

"He  has  closed  the  window  again,"  answered 
Gabriel,  evasively.  "  The  bats  and  the  moths  become 


[7 


1  8  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

troublesome,  and  when  he  argues  with  the  Doctor  they 
both  grow  so  loud  that  people  in  the  street  stop  and 
listen." 

"Circumspection  is  always  wise,"  said  Mr.  Hum- 
mel ;  "but  what  was  the  matter  ?  The  Doctor  is  the 
son  of  the  man  over  yonder,  and  you  know  my  opinion 
of  them,  Gabriel  —  I  do  not  trust  them.  I  do  not  wish 
to  injure  any  one,  but  I  have  my  views  concerning 
them." 

"What  it  was  about,"  answered  Gabriel,  "I  did 
not  hear  ;  but  I  can  tell  you  this  much,  there  was 
much  talk  about  the  ancient  Romans.  Look  you,  Mr. 
Hummel,  if  the  old  Romans  were  among  us  now, 
much  would  be  different.  They  were  dare-devils  ;  they 
knew  how  to  forage  ;  they  knew  how  to  carry  on  war  ; 
they  conquered  everywhere." 

"You  speak  like  an  incendiary,"  said  Mr.  Hummel, 
with  displeasure. 

"Yes,  that  is  the  way  they  did,"  answered  Gabriel, 
complacently.  "  They  were  a  selfish  people,  and  knew 
how  to  look  out  for  their  own  interests.  But  what  is 
most  wonderful  is  the  number  of  books  these  Romans 
wrote  for  all  that,  large  and  small  —  many  also  in  folio. 
When  I  dust  the  library  there  is  no  end  to  the  Romans 
of  all  sizes,  and  some  are  books  thicker  than  the  Bible, 
only  they  are  all  difficult  to  read  ;  but  one  who  knows 
the  language  may  learn  much." 

"The  Romans  are  an  extinct  people,"  replied  Mr. 
Hummel.  "When  they  disappeared,  the  Germans 
came.  The  Romans  could  never  exist  with  us.  The 
only  thing  that  can  help  us  is  the  Hanseatic  league. 
That  is  the  thing  to  look  to.  Powerful  at  sea,  Ga- 
briel," he  exclaimed,  taking  hold  of  his  coat  by  a 
button,  "the  cities  must  form  alliances,  invest  money, 


A    DISCOVERY.  19 

* 

build  ships,  and  hoist  flags;  our  trade   and  credit  are 
established,  and  men  are  not  wanting." 

"  And  would  you  venture  on  the  mighty  ocean  in> 
that  vessel?"  asked  Gabriel,  pointing  to  a  little  row- 
boat  which  lay  in  the  rear  of  the  garden  tilted  over  on 
two  planks.  "Shall  I  go  to  sea  with  the  Professor?  " 

"That  is  not  the  question,"  answered  Mr.  Hum- 
mel; "let  the  young  people  go  first — they  are  useless. 
Many  could  do  better  than  stay  at  home  with  their 
parents.  Why  should  not  the  doctor  up  there  serve 
his  country  in  the  capacity  of  a  sailor  ?  " 

"What  do  you  mean,  Mr.  Hummel?"  cried 
Gabriel,  startled;  "the  young  gentleman  is  near- 
sighted." 

"That's  nothing,"  muttered  Mr.  Hummel,  "for 
they  have  telescopes  at  sea,  and  for  aught  I  care  he 
may  become  a  captain.  I  am  not  the  man  to  wish 
evil  to  my  neighbor." 

"He  is  a  man  of  learning,"  replied  Gabriel,  "and 
this  class  is  also  necessary.  I  can  assure  you,  Mr. 
Hummel,  I  have  meditated  much  upon  the  character 
of  the  learned.  I  know  my  Professor  thoroughly,  and 
something  of  the  Doctor,  and  I  must  say  there  is  some- 
thing in  it — there  is  much  in  it.  Sometimes  I  am  not 
so  sure  of  it.  When  the  tailor  brings  the  Professor 
home  a  new  coat  he  does  not  remark  what  everybody 
else  sees,  whether  the  coat  fits  him  or  wrinkles.  If  he 
takes  it  into  his  head  to  buy  a  load  of  wood  which  has 
very  likely  been  stolen,  from  a  peasant,  he  pays  more 
in  my  absence  than  any  one  else  would.  And  when 
he  grows  angry  and  excited  about  matters  that  you 
and  I  would  discuss  very  calmly,  I  must  say  I  have  my 
doubts.  But  when  I  see  how  he  acts  at  other  times — 
how  kind  and  merciful  he  is,  even  to  the  flies  that 


20  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

# 

buzz  about  his  nose,  taking  them  out  of  his  coffee-cup 
with  a  spoon  and  setting  them  on  the  window-sill — 
how  he  wishes  well  to  all  the  world  and  begrudges 
himself  everything — how  he  sits  reading  and  writing 
till  late  at  night — when  I  see  all  this,  I  must  say  his 
life  affects  me  powerfully.  And  I  tell  you  I  will  not 
allow  any  one  to  underrate  our  men  of  learning.  They 
are  different  from  us  ;  they  do  not  understand  what  we 
do,  nor  do  we  understand  what  they  do." 

"Yet  we  also  have  our  culture,"  replied  Mr.  Hum- 
mel. "Gabriel,  you  have  spoken  like  an  honorable 
man,  but  I  will  confide  this  to  you — that  a  man  may 
have  great  knowledge,  and  yet  be  a  very  hard-hearted 
individual,  who  loans  his  money  on  usurious  interest 
and  deprives  his  friends  of  the  honor  due  them.  There- 
fore I  think  the  main  point  is  to  have  order  and  bound- 
aries, and  to  leave  something  to  one's  descendants. 
Regularity  here,"  he  pointed  to  his  breast,  "and  a 
boundary  there,"  pointing  to  his  fence,  "that  one  may 
be  sure  as  to  what  belongs  to  one's  self  and  what  to 
another,  and  a  secure  property  for  one's  children  on 
which  they  may  settle  themselves.  That  is  what  I  un- 
derstand as  the  life  of  man." 

The  householder  locked  the  gate  of  the  fence  and 
the  door  of  the  house.  Gabriel  also  sought  his  bed, 
but  the  lamp  in  the  Professor's  study  burned  late  into 
the  night,  and  its  rays  intermingled  on  the  window- 
sill  with  the  pale  moonshine.  At  length  the  Scholar's 
light  was  extinguished,  and  the  room  left  empty ;  out- 
side, small  clouds  coursed  over  the  disk  of  the  moon, 
and  flickering  lights  reigned  -paramount  in  the  room, 
over  the  writing-table,  over  the  works  of  the  old 
Romans,  and  over  the  little  book  of  the  defunct  Brother 
Tobias. 


CHAPTER  II. 
THE    HOSTILE    NEIGHBORS. 

WE  are  led  to  believe  that  in  future  times  there 
will  be  nothing  but  love  and  happiness  ;  and  men  will 
go  about  with  palm  branches  in  their  hands  to  chase 
away  the  last  of  those  birds  of  night,  hatred  and  mal- 
ice. In  such  a  chase  we  would  probably  find  the  last 
nest  of  these  monsters  hanging  between  the  walls  of 
two  neighboring  houses.  For  they  have  nestled  be- 
tween neighbor  and  neighbor  ever  since  the  rain 
trickled  from  the  roof  of  one  house  into  the  court  of 
the  other ;  ever  since  the  rays  of  the  sun  were  kept 
away  from  one  house  by  the  wall  of  the  other ;  ever 
since  children  thrust  their  hands  through  the  hedge 
to  steal  berries ;  ever  since  the  master  of  the  house 
has  been  inclined  to  consider  himself  better  than  his 
fellow-men.  There  are  in  our  days  few  houses  in  the 
country  between  which  so  much  ill-will  and  hostile 
criticism  exist  as  between  the  two  houses  near  the 
great  city  park. 

Many  will  remember  the  time  when  the  houses  of 
the  town  did  not  extend  to  the  wooded  valley.  Then 
there  were  only  a  few  small  houses  along  the  lanes ; 
behind  lay  a  waste  place  where  Mrs.  Knips,  the  wash- 
woman, dried  the  shirts,  and  her  two  naughty  boys 
threw  the  wooden  clothes'-pins  at  each  other.  There 
Mr.  Hummel  had  bought  a  dry  spot,  quite  at  the  end 
of  the  street,  and  had  built  his  pretty  house  of  two 
stories,  with  stone  steps  and  iron  railing,  and  behind, 
a.  simple  workshop  for  his  trade ;  for  he  was  a  hatter, 
and  carried  on  the  business  very  extensively.  When 
he  went  out  of  his  house  and  surveyed  the  reliefs  on 


22  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

the  roof  and  the  plaster  arabesques  under  the  windows, 
he  congratulated  himself  on  being  surrounded  by  light 
and  air  and  free  nature,  and  felt  that  he  was  the  fore- 
most pillar  of  civilization  in  the  primeval  forest. 

Then  he  experienced  what  often  happens  to  dis- 
turb the  peace  of  pioneers  of  the  wilderness — his  ex- 
ample was  imitated.  On  a  dark  morning  in  March,  a 
wagon,  loaded  with  old  planks,  came  to  the  drying- 
ground  which  was  opposite  his  house.  A  fence  was 
soon  built,  and  laborers  with  shovels  and  wheelbar- 
rows began  to  dig  up  the  ground.  This  was  a  hard 
blow  for  Mr.  Hummel.  But  his  -suffering  became 
greater  when,  walking  angrily  across  the  street  and  in- 
quiring the  name  of  the  man  who  was  causing  such  in- 
jury to  the  light  and  reputation  of  his  house,  he  learned 
that  his  future  neighbor  was  to  be  a  manufacturer  by 
the  name,  of  Hahn.  That  it  should  of  all  men  in  the 
world  be  he,  was  the  greatest  vexation  fate  could  in- 
flict upon  him.  Mr.  Hahn  was  respectable  ;  there  was 
nothing  to  be  said  against  his  family ;  but  he  was  Mr. 
Hummel's  natural  opponent,  for  the  business  of  the 
new  settler  was  also  in  hats,  although  straw  hats.  The 
manufacture  of  this  light  trash  was  never  considered 
as  dignified,  manly  work  ;  it  was  not  a  guild  handi- 
craft ;  it  never  had  the  right  to  make  apprentices 
journeymen  ;  it  was  formerly  carried  on  only  by  Italian 
peasants ;  it  had  only  lately,  like  other  bad  customs, 
spread  through  the  world  as  a  novelty;  it  is,  in  fact, 
not  a  business — the  plait-straw  is  bought  and  sewed 
together  by  young  girls  who  are  engaged  by  the  week. 
And  there  is  an  old  enmity  between  the  felt  hat  and 
straw  hat.  The  felt  hat  is  an  historical  power  con- 
secrated through  thousands  of  years — it  only  tolerates 
the  cap  as  an  ordinary  contrivance  for  work-days. 


THE    HOSTILE    NEIGHBORS.  23 

Now  the  straw  hat  raises  its  pretensions  against  pre- 
scribed right,  and  insolently  lays  claim  to  half  of  the 
year.  And  since  then  approbation  fluctuates  between 
these  two  appurtenances  of  the  human  race.  When 
the  unstable  minds  of  mortals  wavered  toward  straw, 
the  most  beautiful  felts,  velveteen,  silk,  and  pasteboard 
were  left  unnoticed  and  eaten  by  moths.  On  the  other 
hand,  when  the  inclinations  of  men  turned  to  felt, 
every  human  being — women,  children,  and  nurses — 
wore  men's  small  hats ;  then  the  condition  of  straw 
was  lamentable — no  heart  beat  for  it,  and  the  mouse 
nestled  in  its  most  beautiful  plaits. 

This  was  a  strong  ground  for  indignation  to  Mr. 
Hummel,  but  worse  was  to  come.  He  saw  the  daily 
progress  of  the  hostile  house  ;  he  watched  the  scaffold- 
ing, the  rising  walls,  the  ornaments  of  the  cornice, 
and  the  rows  of  windows — it  was  two  windows  higher 
than  his  house.  The  ground  floor  rose,  then  a  second 
floor,  and  at  last  a  third.  All  the  work-rooms  of  the 
straw  hat  manufacturer  were  attached  to  the  dwelling. 
Ths  house  of  Mr.  Hummel  had  sunk  into  insignifi- 
cance. He  then  went  to  his  lawyer  and  demanded 
redress  for  the  obstruction  of  his  light  and  the  view 
from  his  residence  ;  the  man  of  law  naturally  shrugged 
his  shoulders.  The  privilege  of  building  houses  was 
one  of  the  fundamental  rights  of  man  ;  it  was  the  com- 
mon German  custom  to  live  in  houses,  and  it  was  ob- 
viously hopeless  to  propose  that  Hahn  should  only 
erect  on  his  piece  of  ground  a  canvas  tent.  Thus 
there  was  absolutely  nothing  to  do  but  to  submit  pa- 
tiently, and  Mr.  Hummel  might  have  known  that  him- 
self. 

Years  had  passed  away.  At  the  same  hour  the 
light  of  the  sun  gilds  both  houses  ;  there  they  stand 


24  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

stately  and  inhabited,  both  occupied  by  men  who  daily 
pass  each  other.  At  the  same  hour  the  letter-carrier 
enters  both  houses,  the  pigeons  fly  from  one  roof  to 
the  other,  and  the  sparrows  hop  around  on  the  gutters 
of  both,  in  the  most  cordial  relations.  About  one  house 
there  is  sometimes  a  faint  smell  of  sulphur,  and  about 
the  other,  of  singed  hair ;  but  the  same  summer  wind 
wafts  from  the  wood,  through  the  doors  of  both  dwell- 
ings, the  scent  of  the  pine-trees  and  the  perfumes  of 
the  lime- flowers.  And  yet  the  intense  aversion  of  the 
inhabitants  has  not  diminished.  The  house  of  Hahn 
objects  to  singed  hair,  and  the  family  of  Hummel  cough 
indignantly  in  their  garden  whenever  they  suspect 
sulphur  in  the  oxygen  of  the  air. 

It  is  true  that  decorous  behavior  to  the  neighbor- 
hood was  not  quite  ignored ;  and  though  the  felt  was 
inclined  to  be  quarrelsome,  the  straw  was  more  pliant, 
and  showed  itself  tractable  in  many  cases.  Both  men 
were  acquainted  with  a  family  in  which  they  occasion- 
ally met,  nay,  both  had  once  been  godfathers  to  the 
same  child,  and  care  had  been  taken  that  one  should 
not  give  a  smaller  christening  gift  than  the  other. 
This  unavoidable  acquaintance  necessitated  formal 
greetings  whenever  they  could  not  avoid  meeting  each 
other.  But  there  it  ended.  Between  the  shopmen 
who  cleaned  the  straw  hats  with  sulphur,  and  the 
workmen,  who  presided  over  the  hare-skins,  there 
existed  an  intense  hatred.  And  the  people  who  dwelt 
in  the  nearest  houses  in  the  street  knew  this,  and  did 
their  best  to  maintain  the  existing  relation.  But,  in 
fact,  the  character  of  both  would  scarcely  harmonize. 
Their  dialect  was  different,  their  education  had  been 
different,  the  favorite  dishes  and  the  domestic  arrange- 
ments that  were  approved  by  one  displeased  the  other. 


THE    HOSTILE    NEIGHBORS.  25 

Hummel  was  of  North  German  lineage  ;  Hahn  had 
come  hither  from  a  small  town  in  the  neighborhood. 

When  Mr.  Hummel  spoke  of  his  neighbor  Hahn, 
he  called  him  a  man  of  straw  and  a  fantastical  fellow. 
Mr.  Hahn  was  a  thoughtful  man,  quiet  and  industrious 
in  his  business,  but  in  his  hours  of  recreation  he  de- 
voted himself  to  some  peculiar  fancies.  These  were 
undoubtedly  intended  to  make  a  favorable  impression 
on  the  people  who  passed  by  the  two  houses  on  their 
way  to  the  meadow  and  the  woods.  In  his  little  garden 
he  had  collected  most  of  the  contrivances  of  modern 
landscape-gardening.  Between  the  three  elder-bushes 
there  rose  up  a  rock  built  of  tufa,  with  a  small,  steep 
path  to  the  top.  The  expedition  to  the  summit  could 
be  ventured  upon  without  an  Alpenstock  by  strong 
mountain  climbers  only,  and  even  they  would  be  in 
danger  of  falling  on  their  noses  on  the  jagged  tufa. 
The  following  year,  near  the  railing,  poles  were  erected 
at  short  intervals,  round  which  climbed  creepers, 
and  between  each  pole  hung  a  colored  glass  lamp. 
When  the  row  of  lamps  was  lighted  up  on  festive 
evenings  they  threw  a  magic  splendor  on  the  straw 
hats  which  were  placed  under  the  elder  bushes,  and 
which  challenged  the  judgment  of  the  passers-by. 
The  following  year  the  glass  lamps  were  superseded 
by  Chinese  lanterns.  Again,  the  next  year,  the  garden 
bore  a  classical  aspect,  for  a  white  statue  of  a  muse, 
surrounded  by  ivy  and  blooming  wall-flowers,  shone 
forth  far  into  the  wood. 

In  the  face  of  such  novelties  Mr.  Hummel  remained 
firm  to  his  preference  for  water.  In  the  rear  of  his 
house  a  small  stream  flowed  toward  the  town.  Every 
year  his  boat  was  painted  the  same  green,  and  in  his 
leisure  hours  he  loved  to  o  alone  in  his  boat  and  to 


26  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT.         \. 

row  from  the  houses  to  the  park.  He  took  his  rod  in 
his  hand  and  devoted  himself  to  the  pleasure  of  catch- 
ing gudgeons,  minnows,  and  other  small  fish. 

Doubtless,  the  Hummel  family  were  more  aristo- 
cratic,— that  is,  more  determined,  more  out  of  the 
common,  and  more  difficult  to  deal  with.  Of  all  the 
housewives  of  the  street,  Mrs.  Hummel  displayed  the 
greatest  pretensions  by  her  silk  dresses  and  gold  watch 
and  chain.  She  was  a  little  lady  with  blonde  curls, 
still  very  pretty  ;  she  had  a  seat  at  the  theatre,  was 
accomplished  and  kind-hearted,  and  very  irascible. 
She  looked  as  if  she  did  not  concern  herself  about  any- 
thing, but  she  knew  everything  that  happened  in  the 
street.  Her  husband  was  the  only  one  who,  at  times, 
was  beyond  her  control.  Yet,  although  Mr.  Hummel 
was  tyrannical  to  all  the  world,  he  sometimes  showed 
his  wife  great  consideration.  When  she  was  too  much 
for  him  in  the  house,  he  quietly  went  into  the  garden, 
and  if  she  followed  him  there,  he  ensconced  himself  in 
the  factory  behind  a  bulwark  of  felt. 

But  also  Mrs.  Hummel  was  subject  to  a  higher 
power,  and  this  power  was  exercised  by  her  little 
daughter,  Laura.  This  was  the  only  surviving  one  of 
several  children,  and  all  the  tenderness  and  affection 
of  the  mother  were  lavished  upon  her.  And  she  was 
a  splendid  little  girl ;  the  whole  town  knew  her  ever 
since  she  wore  her  first  red  shoes  ;  she  was  often  de- 
tained when  in  the  arms  of  her  nurse;  and  had  many 
presents  given  her.  She  grew  up  a  merry,  plump  little 
maiden,  with  two  large  blue  eyes  and  round  cheeks, 
with  dark,  curly  hair,  and  an  arch  countenance. 
When  the  little,  rosy  daughter  of  Mr.  Hummel  walked 
along  the  streets,  her  hands  in  the  pockets  of  her 
apron,  she  was  the  delight  of  the  whole  neighborhood. 


Cr 


THE    HOSTILE    NEIGHBORS.  27 

Sprightly  and  decided,  she  knew  how  to  behave  toward 
all,  and  was  never  backward  in  offering  her  little 
mouth  to  be  kissed.  She  would  give  the  woodcutter 
at  the  door  her  buttered  roll,  and  join  him  in  drinking 
the  thin  coffee  out  of  his  cup ;  she  accompanied  the 
letter-carrier  all  along  the  street,  and  her  greatest 
pleasure  was  to  run  with  him  up  the  steps,  to  ring  and 
deliver  his  letters ;  she  even  once  slipped  out  of  the 
room  late  in  the  evening,  and  placed  herself  by  the 
watchman,  on  a  corner-stone,  and  held  his  great  horn 
in  impatient  expectation  of  the  striking  of  the  hour  at 
which  it  was  to  be  sounded.  Mrs.  Hummel  lived  in 
unceasing  anxiety  lest  her  daughter  should  be  stolen ; 
for,  more  than  once  she  had  disappeared  for  many 
hours ;  she  had  gone  with  children,  who  were  strangers, 
to  their  homes,  and  had  played  with  them — she  was 
the  patroness  of  many  of  the  little  urchins  in  the  street, 
knew  how  to  make  them  respect  her,  gave  them 
pennies,  and  received  as  tokens  of  esteem  dolls  and 
little  chimney-sweeps,  constructed  of  dried  plums  and 
little  wooden  sticks.  She  was  a  kind-hearted  child 
that  rather  laughed  than  wept,  and  her  merry  face 
contributed  more  toward  making  the  house  of  Mr. 
Hummel  a  pleasant  abode,  than  the  ivy  arbor  of  the 
mistress  of  the  house,  or  the  massive  bust  of  Mr.  Hum- 
mel himself,  which  looked  down  imperiously  on  Lau- 
ra's doll-house. 

"The  child  is  becoming  unbearable,"  exclaimed 
Mrs.  Hummel,  angrily  dragging  in  the  troubled  Laura 
by  the  hand.  "  She  runs  about  the  streets  all  day  long. 
Just  now  when  I  came  from  market  she  was  sitting 
near  the  bridge,  on  the  chair  of  the  fruit-woman,  sell- 
ing onions  for  her.  Everyone  was  gathering  around 
her,  and  I  had  to  fetch  my  child  out  of  the  crowd." 


28  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"The  little  monkey  will  do  well,"  answered  Mr. 
Hummel,  laughing  ;  "  why  will  you  not  let  her  enjoy 
her  childhood?" 

"She  must  give  up  this  low  company.  She  lacks 
all  sense  of  refinement ;  she  hardly  knows  her  alphabet, 
and  she  has  no  taste  for  reading.  It  is  time,  too,  that 
she  should  begin  her  French  letters.  Little  Betty,  the 
councillor's  daughter,  is  not  older,  and  she  knows  how 
to  call  her  mother  chere  mere,  in  such  a  pretty  man- 
ner." 

"The  French  are  a  polite  people,"  answered  Mr. 
Hummel.  "If  you  are  so  anxious  to  train  your 
daughter  for  the  market,  the  Turkish  language  would 
be  better  than  the  French.  The  Turk  pays  money  if 
you  dispose  of  your  child  to  him  ;  the  others  wish  to 
have  something  into  the  bargain." 

"Do  not  speak  so  inconsiderately,  Henry!"  ex- 
claimed the  wife. 

"  Be  off  with  you  and  your  cursed  French  letters, 
else  I  promise  you  I  will  teach  the  child  all  the  French 
phrases  I  know  ;  they  are  not  many,  but  they  are 
strong.  Baisez-moi,  Madame  Hummel!"  Saying  this, 
he  left  the  room  with  an  air  of  defiance. 

The  result,  however,  of  this  consultation  was  that 
Laura  went  to  school.  It  was  very  difficult  for  her 
to  listen  and  be  silent,  and  for  a  longtime  her  progress 
was  not  satisfactory.  But  at  last  her  little  soul  was 
fired  with  ambition  ;  she  climbed  the  lower  steps  of 
learning  with  Miss  Johanne,  and  then  she  was  pro- 
moted to  the  renowned  Institute  of  Miss  Jeannette, 
where  the  daughters  of  families  of  pretension  received 
education  in  higher  branches.  There  she  learned  the 
tributaries  of  the  Amazon,  and  much  Egyptian  history; 
she  could  touch  the  cover  of  the  electrophorus,  speak 


THE    HOSTILE    NEIGHBORS.  29 

of  the  weather  in  French,  and  read  English  so  in- 
geniously that  even  true-born  Britons  were  obliged  to 
acknowledge  that  a  new  language  had  been  discovered  ; 
lastly,  she  was  accomplished  in  all  the  elegancies  of 
German  composition.  She  wrote  small  treatises  on 
the  difference  between  walking  and  sleeping,  on  the 
feelings  of  the  famed  Cornelia,  mother  of  the  Gracchi, 
on  the  terrors  of  a  shipwreck,  and  of  the  desert  island 
on  which  she  had  been  saved.  Finally,  she  gained 
some  knowledge  of  the  composition  of  strophes  and 
sonnets.  It  soon  became  clear  that  Laura's  strong 
point  was  German,  not  French ;  her  style  was  the  de- 
light of  the  Institute  ;  nay,  she  began  to  write  poems 
in  honor  of  her  teachers  and  favorite  companions,  in 
which  she  very  happily  imitated  the  difficult  rhymes 
of  the  great  Schiller's  "Song  of  the  Bell."  She  was 
now  eighteen,  a  pretty,  rosy,  young  lady,  still  plump 
and  merry,  still  the  ruling  power  of  the  house,  and 
still  loved  by  all  the  people  on  the  street. 

The  mother,  proud  of  the  accomplishments  of  her 
daughter,  after  her  confirmation,  prepared  an  upper 
room  for  her,  looking  out  upon  the  trees  of  the  park  ; 
and  Laura  fitted  up  her  little  home  like  a  fairy  castle, 
with  ivy-vines,  a  little  flower-table,  and  a  beautiful 
ink-stand  of  china  on  which  shepherds  and  shepherd- 
esses were  sitting  side  by  side.  There  she  passed  her 
pleasantest  hours  with  her  pen  and  paper,  writing  her 
diary  in  secret 

She  also  partook  of  the  aversion  of  her  parents  for 
the  neighboring  family.  Even  as  a  little  child  she  had 
passed  poutingly  before  the  door  of  that  house  ;  never 
had  her  foot  crossed  its  threshold,  and  when  good 
Mrs.  Hahn  once  asked  her  to  shake  hands,  it  was  long 
before  she  could  make  up  her  mind  to  take  her  hand 


3° 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


out  of  her  apron  pocket.  Of  the  inhabitants  of  the 
neighboring  house  the  one  most  annoying  to  her  was 
young  Fritz  Hahn.  She  seldom  associated  with  him, 
but  unfortunately  she  was  always  in  some  embarrass- 
ment which  enabled  Fritz  Hahn  to  act  the  part  of  her 
protector.  Before  she  went  to  school,  the  eldest  son  of 
Mrs.  Knips,  already  quite  a  big  fellow,  who  painted 
fine  pictures  and  birthday  cards,  and  sold  them  to  peo- 
ple in  the  neighborhood,  wished  to  compel  her  to  give 
the  money  she  held  in  her  hand  for  a  devil's  head  which 
he  had  painted,  and  which  no  one  in  the  street  would 
have ;  he  treated  her  so  roughly  and  so  ill,  that  con- 
trary to  her  wont,  she  became  frightened  and  gave  him 
her  pennies,  and  weeping,  held  the  horrible  picture 
in  her  hand.  Fritz  Hahn  happened  to  come  that  way, 
inquired  what  had  taken  place,  and  when  she  com- 
plained to  him  of  Knips's  violent  conduct,  he  grew  so 
indignant  that  she  became  frightened  about  him.  He 
set  upon  the  lad,  who  was  *his  school-fellow  and  in  a 
class  above  him,  and  began  to  thrash  him  on  the  spot, 
while  the  younger  Knips  looked  on  laughing,  with  his 
hands  in  his  pocket.  Fritz  pushed  the  naughty  boy 
against  the  wall  and  compelled  him  to  give  up  the 
money  and  take  back  his  devil.  But  this  meeting  did 
not  help  to  make  her  like  Fritz  any  the  better.  She 
could  not  bear  him,  because  already  as  an  undergrad- 
uate he  wore  spectacles,  and  always  looked  so  serious. 
And  when  she  came  from  school,  and  he  went  with 
his  portfolio  to  the  lecture,  she  always  endeavored  to 
avoid  him. 

On  another  occasion  they  happened  to  meet.  She 
was  among  the  first  girls  in  the  Institute;  the  oldest 
Knips  was  already  Magister,  and  the  younger  appren- 
tice in  her  father's  business,  and  Fritz  Hahn  had  just 


THE    HOSTILE    NEIGHBORS.  ^  31 

become  a  doctor.  She  had  rowed  herself  between  the 
trees  in  the  park  till  the  boat  struck  a  snag  and  her  oar 
fell  into  the  water.  As  she  was  bending  down  to  re- 
cover it,  she  also  lost  her  hat  and  parasol.  Laura,  in 
her  embarrassment,  looked  to  the  shore  for  help. 
Again  it  so  happened  that  Fritz  Hahn  was  passing, 
lost  in  thought.  He  heard  the  faint  cry  which  had 
escaped  her,  jumped  into  the  muddy  water,  fished  up 
the  hat  and  parasol,  and  drew  the  boat  to  the  shore. 
Here  he  offered  Laura  his  hand  and  helped  her  on  to 
dry  ground.  Laura  undoubtedly  owed  him  thanks, 
and  he  had  also  treated  her  with  respect  and  called  her 
Miss.  But  then  he  looked  very  ridiculous,  he  bowed 
so  awkwardly,  and  he  stared  at  her  so  fixedly  through 
his  glasses.  And  when  she  afterwards  learned  that  he 
had  caught  a  terrible  cold  from  his  jump  into  the 
swamp,  she  became  indignant,  both  at  herself  and  at 
him,  because  she  had  screamed  when  there  was  no 
danger,  and  he  had  rushed  to  her  aid  with  such  useless 
chivalry.  She  could  have  helped  herself,  and  now  the 
Hahns  would  think  she  owed  them  no  end  of  thanks. 

On  this  point  she  might  have  been  at  ease,  for 
Fritz  had  quietly  changed  his  clothes  and  dried  them 
in  his  room. 

But  indeed  it  was  quite  natural  that  the  two  hostile 
children  should  avoid  each  other,  for  Fritz  was  of  quite 
a  different  nature.  He  also  was  an  only  child,  and  had 
been  brought  up  tenderly  by  a  kind-hearted  father  and 
a  too  anxious  mother.  He  was,  from  his  earliest  child- 
hood, quiet  and  self-possessed,  unassuming  and  studi- 
ous. In  his  home  he  had  created  for  himself  a  little 
world  of  his  own  where  he  indulged  in  out-of-the-way 
studies.  Whilst  around  him  was  the  merry  hum  of 
life,  he  pored  over  Sanskrit  characters,  and  investi- 


32  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

gated  the  relations  between  the  wild  spirits  that  hov- 
ered over  the  Teutoburger  battle,  and  the  gods  of  the 
Veda,  who  floated  over  palm-woods  and  bamboos  in 
the  hot  valley  of  the  Ganges.  He  also  was  the  pride 
and  joy  of  his  family  ;  his  mother  never  failed  to  bring 
him  his  cup  of  coffee  every  morning  ;  then  she  seated 
herself  opposite  him  with  her  bunch  of  keys,  and  looked 
silently  at  him  while  he  ate  his  breakfast,  scolded  him 
gently  for  working  so  late  the  previous  night,  and 
told  him  that  she  could  not  sleep  quietly  till  she  heard 
him  push  back  his  chair  and  place  his  boots  before  the 
door  to  be  cleaned.  After  breakfast,  Fritz  went  to 
his  father  to  bid  him  good  morning,  and  he  knew  that 
it  gave  his  father  pleasure  when  he  walked  with  him 
for  a  few  minutes  in  the  garden,  observing  the  growth 
of  his  favorite  flowers,  and  when,  above  all,  he  ap- 
proved of  his  garden  projects.  This  was  the  only  point 
on  which  Mr.  Hahn  was  sometimes  at  variance  with 
his  son  ;  and,  as  he  could  not  refute  his  son's  argu- 
ments, nor  restrain  his  own  strong  aesthetic  incli- 
nations, he  adopted  methods  which  are  often  resorted 
to  by  greater  politicians — he  secretly  prepared  his 
projects,  and  surprised  his  son  with  the  execution  of 
them. 

Amidst  this  tranquil  life,  intercourse  with  the 
Professor  was  the  greatest  pleasure  of  the  day  to  our 
young  scholar ;  it  elevated  him  and  made  him  happy. 
He  had,  while  yet  a  student,  heard  the  first  course  of 
lectures  given  by  Felix  Werner  at  the  University.  A 
friendship  had  gradually  arisen,  such  as  is  perhaps  only 
possible  among  highly-cultivated,  sound  men  of  learn- 
ing. Fritz  became  the  devoted  confidant  of  the  inex- 
haustible activity  of  his  friend.  Every  investigation 
of  the  Professor,  with  its  results,  was  imparted  to  him, 


THE    HOSTILE    NEIGHBORS.  33 

even  to  the  most  minute  details,  and  the  pleasure  of 
every  new  discovery  was  shared  by  the  neighbors. 
Thus  the  best  portion  of  their  life  was  passed  together. 
Fritz,  indeed,  as  the  younger,  was  more  a  receiver 
than  giver;  but  it  was  just  this  that  made  the  relation 
so  firm  and  deep.  This  intercourse  was  not  without 
occasional  differences,  as  is  natural  with  scholars  ;  for 
both  were  hasty  in  judgment ;  both  were  very  exacting 
in  the  requirements  which  they  made  on  themselves 
and  others,  and  both  were  easily  excited.  But  such 
differences  were  soon  settled,  and  only  served  to  in- 
crease the  loving  consideration  with  which  they  treated 
each  other. 

Through  this  friendship  the  bitter  relations  be- 
tween the  two  houses  were  somewhat  mitigated.  Even 
Mr.  Hummel  could  not  help  showing  some  respect  for 
the  Doctor,  as  his  highly-honored  tenant  paid  such 
striking  marks  of  distinction  to  the  son  of  the  enemy. 
For  Mr.  Hummel's  respect  for  his  tenant  was  un- 
bounded. He  heard  that  the  Professor  was  quite 
celebrated  in  his  specialty,  and  he  was  inclined  to 
value  earthly  fame  when,  as  in  this  case,  there  was 
profit  in  it.  Besides,  the  Professor  was  a  most  ex- 
cellent tenant.  He  never  protested  against  any  rule 
which  Mr.  Hummel,  as  chief  magistrate  of  the  house, 
prescribed.  He  had  once  asked  the  advice  of  Mr. 
Hummel  concerning  the  investment  of  some  capital. 
He  possessed  neither  dog  nor  cat,  gave  no  parties,  and 
did  not  sing  with  his  window  open,  nor  play  bravura 
pieces  on  the  piano.  But  the  main  point  was,  that  he 
showed  to  Mrs.  Hummel  and  Laura,  whenever  he  met 
them,  the  most  chivalrous  politeness,  which  well  be- 
came the  learned  gentleman.  Mrs.  Hummel  was  en- 
chanted with  her  tenant  ;  and  Mr.  Hummel  always 


34  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

deemed  it  expedient  not  to  mention  his  intention  of 
raising  the  rent  to  his  family,  because  he  foresaw  a 
general  remonstrance  from  the  ladies. 

Now  the  hobgoblin  who  ran  to  and  fro  between 
both  houses,  throwing  stones  in  the  way,  and  making 
sport  of  men,  had  tried  also  to  excite  these  two 
noble  souls  against  each  other.  But  his  attempt  was 
a  miserable  failure  ;  these  worthy  men  were  not  dis- 
posed to  dance  to  his  discordant  pipes. 

Early  the  following  morning,  Gabriel  took  a  letter 
from  his  master  to  the  Doctor.  As  he  passed  the  hos- 
tile threshold,  Dorchen,  the  servant  of  the  Hahn  family, 
hastily  came  toward  him  with  a  letter  from  her  young 
master  to  the  Professor.  The  messengers  exchanged 
letters,  and  the  two  friends  read  them  at  the  same 
moment. 

The  Professor  wrote  :  — 

"  My  dear  friend  —  Do  not  be  angry  with  me  be- 
cause I  have  again  been  vehement  ;  the  cause  of  it  was 
as  absurd  as  possible.  I  must  honestly  tell  you  that 
what  put  me  out  was  your  having  so  unconditionally 
refused  to  edit  with  me  a  Latin  text.  For  the  pos- 
sibility of  finding  the  lost  manuscript,  which  we  in  our 
pleasant  dreams  assumed  for  some  minutes,  was  the 
more  enticing  to  me,  because  it  opened  the  prospect 
of  an  employment  in  common  to  us  both.  And  if  I 
wish  to  draw  you  within  the  narrow  circle  of  my  stud- 
ies, you  may  take  for  granted  that  it  is  not  only  from 
personal  feeling,  but  far  more  from  the  wish  of  my 
heart  to  avail  myself  of  your  ability  for  the  branch  of 
learning  to  which  I  confine  myself." 

Fritz,  on  the  other  hand,  wrote  :  — 
"  My  very  dear  friend  —  I  feel   most   painfully  that 
my  irritability  yesterday  spoilt  for  us  both  a  charming 


THE    HOSTILE    NEIGHBORS.  35 

evening.  But  do  not  think  that  I  mean  to  dispute 
your  right  to  reproach  me  for  the  prolixity  and  want  of 
system  in  my  labors.  It  was  just  because  what  you 
said  touched  a  cord,  the  secret  dissonance  of  which  I 
have  myself  sometimes  felt,  that  I  for  a  moment  lost 
my  equanimity.  You  are  certainly  right  in  much  that 
you  said,  only  I  beg  you  to  believe  that  my  refusal  to 
undertake  a  great  work  in  conjunction  with  you  was 
neither  selfishness  nor  want  of  friendship.  I  am  con- 
vinced that  I  ought  not  to  abandon  the  work  I  have 
undertaken,  even  though  too  extensive  for  my  powers  ; 
least  of  all  exchange  it  for  a  new  circle  of  interests,  in 
which  my  deficient  knowledge  would  be  a  burden  to 
you." 

After  the  reception  of  these  letters  both  were  some- 
what more  at  ease.  But  certain  expressions  in  them 
made  some  further  explanation  necessary  to  berth,  so 
they  set  to  work  and  wrote  again  to  each  other, 
shortly  and  pithily,  as  became  thoughtful  men.  The 
Professor  answered:  "I  thank  you  from  my  heart, 
my  dear  Fritz*  for  your  letter  ;  but  I  must  repeat  that 
you  always  estimate  your  own  worth  too  low,  and  this 
is  all  that  I  can  reproach  you  with." 

Fritz  replied:  "How  deeply  touched  I  feel  by 
your  friendship  at  this  moment  !  This  only  will  I  say, 
that  among  the  many  things  I  have  to  learn  from  you, 
there  is  nothing  I  need  more  than  your  modesty  ;  and 
whe'n  you  speak  of  your  knowledge  so  comprehensive 
and  fertile  in  results,  as  being  limited,  be  not  angry 
if  I  strive  after  the  same  modesty  with  regard  to  my 
work." 

After  sending  the  letter,  the  Professor,  still  dis- 
quieted, went  to  his  lecture,  and  was  conscious  that  his 
mind  wandered  during  his  discourse.  Fritz  hastened 


A 


[7 


36  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

to  the  library,  and  diligently  collected  all  the  references 
which  he  could  find  respecting  the  Manor  of  Bielstein. 
At  midday,  on  their  return  home,  each  of  them  read 
the  second  letter  of  his  friend  :  then  the  Professor  fre- 
quently looked  at  the  clock,  and  when  it  struck  three 
he  hastily  put  on  his  hat  and  went  with  great  strides 
across  the  street  to  the  hostile  house.  As  he  laid  hold 
of  the  door-knob  of  the  Doctor's  room,  he  felt  a  counter 
pressure  from  within.  Pushing  the  door  open,  he 
found  Fritz  standing  before  him,  also  with  his  hat  on, 
intending  to  visit  him.  Without  saying  a  word  the 
two  friends  embraced  each  other. 

"  I  bring  you  good  tidings  from  the  book-seller," 
began  the  Professor. 

"And  I  of  the  old  Manor,"  exclaimed  Fritz. 

"  Listen,"  said  the  Professor.  "The  book-seller 
bought  the  monk's  book  of  a  retail-dealer  who  travels 
about  the  country  collecting  curiosities  and  old  books. 
The  man  was  brought  into  my  presence  ;  he  had  him- 
self bought  the  little  book  in  the  town  of  Rossau,  at 
an  auction  of  the  effects  of  a  cloth-maker,  together 
with  an  old  cupboard  and  some  carved  stools.  It  is  at 
least  possible  that  the  remarks  in  cipher  at  the  end, 
which  evade  unpracticed  eyes,  may  never,  after  the 
death  of  the  friar,  have  excited  observation  nor  caused 
investigation.  Perhaps  there  may  still  be  preserved 
in  some  church-record  at  Rossau  an  account  of  the 
life  and  death  of  the  monk  Tobias  Bachhuber." 

"Possibly,"  assented  Fritz,  much  pleased.  "A 
congregation  of  his  persuasion  still  exists.  But  Manor 
Bielstein  lies  at  a  distance  of  half  an  hour  from  the 
town  of  Rossau,  on  a  woody  height—  see,  here  is  the 
map.  It  formerly  belonged  to  the  ruling  sovereign, 
but  in  the  last  century  it  passed  into  private  hands  ; 


THE    HOSTILE    NEIGHBORS.  37 

the  buildings,  however,  remain.  It  is  represented  on 
this  map  as  an  old  chateau,  at  present  the  residence 
of  a  Mr.  Bauer.  My  father  also  knows  about  the 
house ;  he  has  seen  it  from  the  high  road  on  his  jour- 
neys, and  describes  it  as  a  long  stretch  of  buildings, 
with  balconies  and  a  high  roof."  , 

"The  threads  interweave  themselves  into  a  satis- 
factory web,"  said  the  Professor,  complacently. 

"Stop  a  moment,"  cried  the  Doctor,  eagerly. 
"The  traditions  of  this  province  have  been  collected 
by  one  of  our  friends.  The  man  is  trustworthy.  Let 
us  see  whether  he  has  recorded  any  reminiscences  of 
the  neighborhood  of  Rossau. "  He  hastily  opened  and 
looked  into  a.book,  and  then  gazed  speechless  at  his 
friend. 

The  Professor  seized  the  volume  and  read  this 
short  notice  :  "  It  is  said  that  in  the  olden  times  the 
monks  in  the  neighborhood  of  Bielstein  walled  up  a 
great  treasure  in  the  manor-house." 

Again  did  a  vision  of  the  old,  mysterious  manu- 
script arise  before  the  eyes  of  the  friends  so  distinctly 
that  it  might  be  seized. 

"It  is  certainly  not  impossible  that  the  manuscript 
may  yet  lie  concealed,"  remarked  the  Professor,  at 
last,  with  assumed  composure.  "  Instances  of  similar 
discoveries  are  not  lacking.  It  is  not  long  since  that 
a  ceiling  of  a  room  in  the  old  house  of  the  proprietor 
of  my  home  was  broken  through ;  it  was  a  double 
ceiling,  and  the  empty  space  contained  a  number  of 
records  and  papers  concerning  the  ownership,  and 
some  old  jewels.  The  treasure  had  been  concealed 
in  the  time  of  the  great  war,  and  no  one  for  a  century 
had  heeded  the  lowly  ceiling  of  the  little  room." 

"Naturally,"  exclaimed  Fritz,  rubbing  his  hands. 


38  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"And  within  the  facing  of  old  chimneys  empty  spaces 
are  sometimes  found.  A  brother  of  my  mother's 
found,  on  rebuilding  his  house,  in  such  a  place  a  pot 
full  of  coins."  He  drew  out  his  purse.  "Here  is  one 
of  them,  a  beautiful  Swedish  dollar ;  my  uncle  gave  it 
to  me  at  my  confirmation  as  a  luck-penny,  and  I  have 
carried  it  in  my  purse  ever  since.  I  have  often  strug- 
gled against  the  temptation  to  spend  it." 

The  Professor  closely  examined  the  head  of  Gusta- 
vus  Adolphus,  as  if  he  had  been  a  neighbor  of  the  con- 
cealed Tacitus,  and  would  convey  information  con- 
cerning the  lost  book  in  its  inscription.  '  "It  is  true," 
he  said,  reflectively,  "if  the  house  is  on  a  height,  even 
the  cellars  may  be  dry." 

"  Undoubtedly,"  answered  the  Doctor.  "Often, 
too,  the  thick  walls  were  built  double,  and  the  inter- 
vening space  filled  with  rubbish.  In  such  a  case  it 
would  be  easy,  through  a  small  opening,  to  make  a 
hollow  space  in  the  inside  of  the  wall." 

"But  now,"  began  the  Professor,  rising,  "the 
question  arises,  what  are  we  to  do  ?  For  the  knowl- 
edge of  such  a  thing,  whether  it  be  of  great  or  little 
importance,  imposes  upon  the  investigator  the  duty  of 
doing  all  that  is  possible  to  promote  the  discovery. 
And  this  duty  we  must  fulfill  promptly  and  completely. " 

"If  you  impart  this  record  to  the  public,  you  will 
allow  the  prospect  of  discovering  the  manuscript  to 
pass  out  of  your  own  hands." 

"In  this  business,  every  personal  consideration 
must  be  dismissed,"  said  the  Professor,  decisively. 

"And  if  you  now  make  known  the  cloister-record 
you  have  found,"  continued  the  Doctor,  "who  can 
answer  for  it,  that  the  nimble  activity  of  some  anti- 
quary, or  some  foreigner,  may  not  prevent  all  further 


THE    HOSTILE    NEIGHBORS.  39 

investigations  ?  In  such  a  case  the  treasure,  even  if 
found,  would  be  lost,  not  only  to  you,  but  also  to  our 
country  and  to  science." 

"That,  at  least,  must  not  be,"  cried  the  Professor. 

"  And  besides,  even  if  you  apply  to  the  government 
of  the  province,  it  is  very  doubtful  whether  they  will 
render  you  any  assistance,"  replied  the  Doctor,  tri- 
umphantly. » 

"I  do  not  think  of  committing  the  matter  to  stran- 
gers and  officials,"  answered  the  Professor.  "We 
have  a  person  in  the  neighborhood  whose  good  for- 
tune and  acuteness  in  tracing  out  rarities  is  wonderful. 
I  have  a  mind  to  tell  Magister  Knips  of  the  manu- 
script ;  he  may  lay  aside  his  proof-sheets  for  a  few 
days,  travel  for  us  to  Rossau,  and  there  examine  the 
ground." 

The  Doctor  jumped  up.  "That  will  never  do. 
Knips  is  not  the  man  to  trust  with  such  a  secret." 

"I  have  always  found  him  trustworthy,"  replied 
the  Professor.  "  He  is  wonderfully  skillful  and  well- 
informed." 

"To  me  it  would  appear  a  desecration  of  this  fine 
discovery,  to  employ  such  a  man,"  answered  Fritz, 
"and  I  would  never  consent  to  it." 

"  In  that  case,"  cried  the  Professor,  "  I  have  made 
up  my  mind.  The  vacation  is  at  hand  ;  I  will  go  my- 
self to  the  old  house.  And  as  you,  my  friend,  intended 
to  travel  for  a  few  days,  you  must  accompany  me  ;  we 
shall  go  together.  Here  is  my  hand  on  it." 

"With  all  my  heart,"  cried  the  Doctor,  clasping 
his  friend's  hand.  "We  will  penetrate  into  the  manor- 
house,  and  summon  the  spirits  which  hover  over  the 
treasure." 

"We  will  first  come  to  an  understanding  with  the 


40  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

owner  of  the  house.  Then  we  shall  see  what  is  to  be 
.done.  Meanwhile  let  us  keep  the  affair  secret." 

"That  is  right, "  assented  Fritz;  and  the  friends 
descended,  well  satisfied,  into  the  garden  of  Mr.  Hahn, 
and,  pausing  for  a  few  moments  beneath  the  White 
Muse,  they  consulted  with  regard  to  the  opening  of  the 
campaign. 

The  imagination  of  the  Scholar  was  fast  pent 
up  by  his  methodical  train  of  thought;  but  in  the 
depths  of  his  soul  there  was  a  rich  and  abundant 
stream  from  the  secret  source  of  all  beauty  and  energy. 
Now  a  hole  had  been  torn  in  the  dam,  and  the  flood 
poured  itself  joyfully  over  the  seed.  Ever  did  the 
wish  for  the  mysterious  manuscript  return  to  him. 
He  saw  before  him  the  opening  in  the  wall,  and  the 
first  glimmer  of  light  falling  on  the  grey  books  in  the 
hollow ;  he  saw  the  treasure  in  his  hands  as  he  drew 
it  out,  and  would  not  part  with  it  till  he  had  deci- 
phered the  illegible  pages.  Blessed  spirit  of  Brother 
Tobias  Bachhuber,  if  thou  shouldst  spend  any  of  thy 
holiday-time  in  heaven  in  coming  back  to  our  poor 
earth,  and  if  then  at  night  thou  glidest  through  the 
rooms  of  the  old  manor,  guarding  thy  treasure  and 
scaring  inquisitive  meddlers,  pray,  nod  kindly  to  the 
man  who  now  approaches  to  bring  thy  secret  to  the 
light  of  day,  for  truly  he  seeks  not  honor  nor  gain  for 
himself,  but  he  conjures  you,  in  the  name  of  all  that 
.  is  good,  to  assist  a  well-meaning  man. 

CHAPTER  III. 
A     FOOL'S    ERRAND. 

WHOEVER  on  a  certain  sunny  harvest-morning  in 
August  had  looked  down  from  the  heights  in  the  di- 


A    FOOL'S    ERRAND.  41 

rection  of  Rossau,  would  have  observed  an  object 
moving  along  the  road  between  the  meadows  that 
extended  to  the  gates  of  the  city.  On  closer  observa- 
tion two  travelers  might  be  perceived,  one  taller  than 
the  other,  both  wearing  light  summer  clothes,  the 
freshness  of  which  had  been  sullied  by  the  stormy  rain 
of  the  last  few  days.  They  had  both  leather  traveling- 
bags,  which  hung  by  straps  from  their  shoulders ;  the 
taller  one  wore  a  broad-brimmed  felt  hat,  the  shorter 
one  a  straw  hat. 

The  travelers  were  evidently  strangers,  for  they 
stopped  at  times  to  observe  and  enjoy  the  view  of  the 
valley  and  hills,  which  is  seldom  the  custom  with  people 
born  in  the  country.  The  district  had  not  yet  been 
discovered  by  pleasure-seekers  ;  there  were  no  smooth 
paths  in  the  woods  for  the  thin  boots  of  towns-folk ; 
even  the  carriage-road  was  not  a  work  of  art,  the  water 
lay  in  the  tracks  made  by  the  wheels ;  the  sheep-bells 
and  the  axe  of  the  wood-cutter  only  were  heard  by  the 
dwellers  of  the  neighborhood,  who  were  working  in 
the  fields  or  passing  on  their  way  to  their  work.  And 
yet  the  country  was  not  without  charm  ;  the  woody 
hills  were  marked  in  bold  outlines,  a  stone-quarry 
might  be  seen  between  the  fields  in  the  plain,  or  the 
head  of  a  rock  jutted  out  from  amongst  the  trees. 
From  the  hills  on  the  horizon  a  small  brook  wound  its 
course  to  the  distant  river,  bordered  by  strips  of 
meadow,  behind  which  the  arable  land  ran  up  to  the 
woody  heights.  The  lovely  landscape  looked  bright 
in  the  morning  sunshine. 

In  the  low  country  in  front  of  the  travelers  rose  to 
view,  surrounded  by  hills,  the  village  of  Rossau,  a 
little  country-town  with  two  massive  church  towers 
and  dark-tiled  roofs,  which  projected  above  the  walls 


42  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

of  the  place  like  the  backs  of  a  herd  of  cattle  that 
had  crowded  together  for  protection  against  a  pack  of 
wolves. 

The  strangers  looked  from  their  high  position  with 
warm  interest  on  the  chimneys  and  towers  behind  the 
old  discolored  and  patched  walls  that  lay  before 
them.  In  that  place  had  once  been  preserved  a 
treasure,  which,  if  found  again,  would  interest  the 
whole  civilized  world  and  excite  hundreds  to  intel- 
lectual labor.  The  landscape  looked  exactly  like  other 
German  landscapes,  and  the  village  was  exactly  like 
other  German  villages  ;  and  yet  there  was  an  attrac- 
tion about  the  place  that  inspired  a  joyful  hope  in 
the  travelers.  Was  it  the  globe-like  ornament  that 
crowned  the  stout  old  tower?  or  was  it  the  arch  o'f  the 
gate  which  just  veiled  from  the  travelers  in  alluring 
darkness  the  entrance  to  the  town  ?  or  the  stillness  of 
the  empty  valley,  in  which  the  place  lay  without 
suburbs  and  outhouses,  as  the  towns  are  portrayed  on 
old  maps  ?  or  the  herds  of  cattle  that  went  out  of 
the  gate  into  the  open  space,  and  bounded  merrily  on 
the  pasture  ground  ?  or  was  it  perhaps  the  keen 
morning  air  which  blew  about  the  temples  of  the 
wanderers  ?  Both  felt  that  something  remarkable  and 
promising  hovered  over  the  valley  in  which,  as  search- 
ers of  the  past,  they  were  entering. 

"  Imagine  the  landscape  as  it  once  appeared  to  the 
eye,"  began  the  Professor;  "the  forest,  in  olden  times, 
encircled  the  town  more  closely  ;  the  hills  seemed 
higher,  the  valley  deeper;  the  monastery  then  lay, 
with  the  dwellings  of  its  dependants,  as  in  a  deep  basin. 
There,  to  the  south,  where  the  country  sharply  rises, 
the  monks  had  their  vineyards.  Gradually  the  houses 
of  the  town  drew  about  the  monastery.  Take  from 


A    FOOL'S    ERRAND.  43 

those  towers  beyond  us  the  caps  that  were  placed 
upon  them  a  century  ago,  give  them  back  their  old 
pinnacles,  place  here  and  there  a  turret  on  the  walls, 
and  you  have  an  ideal,  wondrously  beautiful  picture  of 
mediaeval  days." 

"And  upon  the  same  road  that  leads  us  thither, 
a  learned  monk  once  strode  with  his  precious  manu- 
scripts towards  the  quiet  valley ;  there  to  teach  his 
companions,  or  to  shield  himself,  perhaps,  from  power- 
ful enemies,"  the  Doctor  said,  with  enthusiasm. 

The  travelers  passed  by  the  pasture  ground ;  the 
herdsmen  looked  with  indifference  at  the  strangers ; 
but  the  cows  placed  themselves  by  the  edge  of  the 
ditch  and  stared,  while  the  young  ones  of  the  herd 
bellowed  at  them  inquiringly.  They  went  through  the 
dark  arch  of  the  gate  and  looked  curiously  along  the 
streets.  It  was  a  poor  little  town,  the  main  street 
alone  was  paved,  and  that  badly.  Not  far  from  the 
gate  the  sloping  beam  of  a  well  projected  high  in  the 
air,  and  from  it  hung  along  pole  with  a  bucket  attached. 
Few  people  were  to  be  seen,  those  who  were  not  work- 
ing in  the  houses  were  occupied  in  the  field  ;  for  the 
straws  which  stuck  in  the  stone  crevices  of  the  arch  of 
the  gate  showed  that  harvest  wagons  were  carrying  the 
fruits  of  the  fields  to  the  farm-yards  of  the  citizens. 
Near  many  of  the  houses  there  were  open  wooden 
doors,  through  which  one  could  look  into  the  yard 
and  barns,  and  over  the  dung  heap  on  which  small 
fowls  were  pecking.  The  last  century  had  altered  the 
place  but  little,  and  the  low  houses  still  stood  with 
their  gables  to  the  front.  Instead  of  the  coats  of 
arms,  there  projected  into  the  street  the  signs  of 
artisans,  carved  in  tin  or  wood,  and  painted — such  as 
a  large  wooden  boot ;  a  griffin,  holding  enormous  shears 


44  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

in  its  hand  ;  or  a  rampant  lion,  that  extended  a  bretzel ; 
or,  as  the  most  beautiful  masterpiece  of  all,  a  regular 
hexagon  of  colored  glass  panes. 

"  Much  has  been  retained  of  mediaeval  times  here," 
said  the  Professor. 

The  friends  came  to  the  market-place,  an  irregular 
space,  the  little  houses  of  which  were  adorned  with 
bright  paint.  There  on  an  insignificant  building  prom- 
inently stood  a  red  dragon  with  a  curled  tail,  carved 
out  of  a  board,  and  supported  in  the  air  on  an  iron 
pole.  Upon  it  was  painted,  in  ill-formed  letters, 
"The  Dragon  Inn." 

"See,"  said  Fritz,  pointing  to  the  dragon,  "the 
fancy  of  the  artist  has  carved  him  with  a  pike's  head 
and  thick  teeth.  The  dragon  is  the  oldest  treasure- 
preserver  of  our  legends.  It  is  remarkable  how  firmly 
the  recollection  of  this  legendary  animal  everywhere 
clings  to  the  people.  Probably  this  sign-board  origin- 
ates from  some  tradition  of  the  place." 

They  ascended  the  white  stone  steps  into  the  house, 
utterly  unconscious  that  they  had  long  been  watched 
by  sharp  eyes.  A  citizen,  who  was  taking  his  morning 
draught,  exclaimed  to  the  stout  host,  "  Who  can  these 
be  ?  They  do  not  look  like  commercial  travelers  ;  per- 
haps one  of  them  is  the  new  parson  from  Kirchdorf. " 

"Parsons don't  look  like  that, "said  the  inn-keeper, 
decidedly,  who  knew  men  better ;  "they  are  strangers 
on  foot,  no  carriage  and  no  luggage." 

The  strangers  entered,  placed  themselves  at  a  red- 
painted  table,  and  ordered  breakfast.  "A  beautiful 
country,  mine  host, "  began  the  Professor;  "magnif- 
icent trees  in  your  forests." 

"Yes,"  answered  the  host. 


A    FOOL'S    ERRAND.  45 

"A  wealthy  neighborhood,  apparently,"  continued 
the  Professor. 

"People  complain  that  they  do  not  earn  enough," 
replied  the  host. 

"How  many  clergy  have  you  in  the  place  ?  " 

"Two,"  said  the  host,  more  politely.  "But  the 
old  pastor  is  dead  ;  meanwhile,  there  is  a  candidate 
here." 

"  Is  the  other  pastor  at  home  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know,"  said  the  landlord. 

"Have  you  a  court  of  justice  here  ?  " 

"We  have  a  Justice  of  the  Peace  ;  he  is  now  here — 
court  is  in  session  to-day." 

"Was  there  not  in  former  times  a  monastery  in 
the  city?"  said  the  Doctor,  taking  up  the  examination. 

The  citizen  and  the  landlord  looked  at  each  other. 
"That  is  long  since,"  replied  the  master  of  the  inn. 

"Does  not  the  Manor  of  Bielstein  lie  in  the  neigh- 
borhood ?  "  inquired  Fritz. 

Again  the  citizen  and  the  landlord  looked  signifi- 
cantly at  each  other. 

"It  lies  somewhere  here  in  the  neighborhood," 
answered  the  landlord,  with  reserve. 

"  How  long  does  it  take  to  go  to  the  manor?"  asked 
the  Professor,  irritated  by  the  short  answers  of  the 
man. 

"Do  you  wish  to  go  there ?  "  inquired  the  landlord. 
' '  Do  you  know  the  owner  ?  " 

"No,"  answered  the  Professor. 

"Have  you  any  business  with  him?" 

"That  is  our  affair,"  answered  the  Professor, 
curtly. 

"The  road  leads  through  the  wood,  and  takes  half 
an  hour — you  cannot  miss  it ;  "  and  the  landlord  ab- 


46  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

ruptly  closed  the  conversation  an,d  left  the  room.    The 
citizen  followed  him. 

"We  have  not  learnt  much,"  said  the  Doctor, 
laughing.  "I  hope  the  pastor  and  magistrate  will  be 
more  communicative." 

"We  will  go  direct  to  the  place,"  said  the  Pro- 
fessor, with  decision. 

Meanwhile  the  landlord  and  the  citizen  consulted 
together.  ' '  Whatever  the  strangers  may  be, "  repeated 
the  citizen,  "they  are  not  ecclesiastics,  and  they  did 
not  seem  to  care  for  the  magistrate.  Did  you  remark 
how  they  inquired  about  the  monastery  and  the  Manor?" 
The  landlord  nodded.  "  I  will  tell  you  my  suspicion," 
continued  the  citizen,  eagerly;  "they  have  not  come 
here  for  nothing  ;  they  are  after  something." 

"What  can  that  be?"  asked  the  landlord,  pond- 
ering. 

"They  are  disguised  Jesuits  ;  that's  what  they  look 
like  to  me." 

"Well,  if  they  intend  to  seek  a  quarrel  with  the 
people  at  the  Manor,  they  will  find  their  match." 

"  I  am  on  my  way  now  to  the  Inspector  on  business  ; 
I  will  give  him  a  hint." 

"  Do  not  meddle  with  what  does  not  concern  you," 
said  the  landlord,  warningly.  But  the  citizen  only 
held  the  boots  he  carried,  tighter  under  his  arm,  and 
drove  round  the  corner. 

Our  two  friends  left,  disgusted  with  the  lack  of 
courtesy  .they  encountered  at  the  Dragon.  They  in- 
quired the  way  to  the  manor  of  an  old  woman  at  the 
opposite  gate  of  the  city.  Behind  the  town  the  path 
rose  from  the  gravel  bed  of  the  brook  to  the  woody 
height.  They  entered  a  clearing  of  underbrush,  from 
which,  here  and  there,  rose  up  high  oaks.  The  rain 


A    FOOL'S    ERRAND.  47 

of  the  last  evening  still  hung  in  drops  on  the  leaves — 
the  deep  green  of  summer  glistened  in  the  sun's  rays — 
the  song  of  birds  and  the  tapping  of  the  woodpecker 
above  broke  the  stillness. 

"This  puts  one  in  different  frame  of  mind,"  ex- 
claimed the  Doctor,  cheerfully. 

"  It  requires  very  little  to  call  forth  new  melodies 
in  a  well-strung  heart,  if  fate  has  not  played  on  it  with 
too  rough  a  hand.  The  bark  of  a  few  trees  covered 
with  hoary  moss,  a  handful  of  blossoms  on  the  turf, 
and  a  few  notes  from  the  throats  of  birds,  are  suffi- 
cient," replied  the  philosophic  Professor.  "Hark! 
that  is  no  greeting  of  nature  to  the  wanderer,"  added 
he,  listening  attentively,  as  the  sound  of  distant  voices 
chanting  a  choral,  fell  softly  on  his  ear.  The  sound 
appeared  to  come  from  above  the  trees. 

"Let  us  go  higher  up,"  exclaimed  the  Doctor,  "to 
the  mysterious  place  where  old  church-hymns  murmur 
through  the  oaks." 

They  ascended  the  hill  some  hundred  steps,  and 
found  themselves  on  an  open  terrace,  one  side  of  which 
was  surrounded  by  trees.  In  the  clearing  stood  a  small 
wooden  church  surrounded  by  a  graveyard  ;  some  dis- 
tance beyond  on  a  massive  extent  of  rock  rose  a  great 
old  building,  the  roof  of  which  was  broken  by  many 
pointed  gables. 

"How  all  harmonizes  !"  exclaimed  the  Professor, 
looking  curiously  over  the  little  church  up  to  the 
Manor-house. 

A  funeral  chant  was  heard  more  clearly  from  the 
church.  "  Let  us  go  in,"  said  the  Doctor,  pointing  to 
the  open  door. 

"  To  my  mind  it  is  more  seemly  to  remain  without," 
answered  the  Professor;  "it  is  repulsive  to  me  to  in- 


[7 


48  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

trude  either  on  the  pleasures  or  sorrows  of  strangers. 
The  hymn  is  finished  ;  now  comes  the  pastor's  little 
discourse." 

Fritz  meanwhile  had  climbed  the  low  stone  wall 
and  was  examining  the  church.  "Look  at  the  massive 
buttresses.  It  is  the  remains  of  an  old  building  ;  they 
have  repaired  it  with  piriewood  ;  the  tower  and  roof 
are  black  with  age  ;  it  would  be  worth  our  while  to  see 
the  inside." 

The  Professor  held  in  his  hand  the  long  shoot  of  a 
bramble  bush  which  hung  over  the  wall,  looking  with 
admiration  at  its  white  blossoms,  and  at  the  green  and 
brown  berries  which  grew  in  thick  clusters.  The  sound 
of  a  man's  voice  fell  indistinctly  on  his  ear,  and  he 
bent  his  head  involuntarily  to  catch  the  words. 

"Let  us  hear,"  he  said  at  last,  and  entered  the 
churchyard  with  his  friend.  They  took  off  their  hats 
and  quietly  opened  the  church  door.  It  was  a  very 
small  hall  ;  the  bricks  of  the  old  choir  had  been  white- 
washed ;  the  chancel,  a  gallery,  and  a  few  benches 
were  of  brown  firwood.  Before  the  altar  lay  open  a 
child's  coffin,  the  form  within  was  covered  with  flowers. 
Beside  it  stood  several  country  people  in  simple  attire  ; 
on  the  steps  of  the  altar  was  an  aged  clergyman  with 
white  hair  and  a  kind  face  ;  and  at  the  head  of  the 
coffin  the  wife  of  a  laborer,  mother  of  the  little  one, 
sobbing.  Beside  her  stood  a  fine,  womanly  form  in 
city  dress  ;  she  had  taken  off  her  hat,  and  with  folded 
hands  was  looking  down  on  the  child  that  lay  among 
the  flowers.  Thus  she  stood,  motionless  ;  the  sun 
fell  obliquely  on  the  waving  hair  and  regular  feat- 
ures of  the  young  face.  But  more  captivating  than 
the  tall  figure  and  beautiful  head  was  the  expression 
of  deep  devotion  that  pervaded  the  whole  counte- 


A    FOOL'S    ERRAND. 


49 


nance.  The  Professor  involuntarily  seized  hold  of  his 
friend's  arm  to  detain  him.  The  clergyman  made 
his  concluding  prayer ;  the  stately  maiden  bowed  her 
head  lower,  then  bent  down  once  more  to  the  little 
one,  and  wound  her  arm  round  the  mother,  who  leaned 
weeping  on  her  comforter.  Thus  she  stood,  speaking 
gently  to  the  mother,  while  tears  rolled  down  from  her 
eyes.  How  spirit-like  sounded  the  murmurs  of  that 
rich  voice  in  the  ear  of  her  friend  !  Then  the  men  lifted 
the  coffin  from  the  ground  and  followed  the  clergyman, 
who  led  the  way  to  the  churchyard.  Behind  the  coffin, 
went  the  mother,  her  head  still  on  the  shoulder  of  her 
supporter.  The  maiden  passed  by  the  strangers,  gaz- 
ing before  her  with  an  inspired  look,  whispering  in  her 
companion's  ear  words  from  the  Bible:  "The  Lord 
gave,  and  the  Lord  hath  taken  away.  Let  little  chil- 
dren come  unto  me."  Her  gentle  accents  were  heard 
even  by  the  friends.  The  mother  hung  broken-hearted 
on  the  arm  of  the  girl,  and,  as  if  borne  along  by 
the  gentle  tones,  tottered  to  the  grave.  Reverently 
did  the  friends  follow  the  procession.  The  coffin  was 
lowered  into  the  grave,  the  clergyman  pronounced  the 
blessing,  and  each  one  present  threw  three  handfuls  of 
earth  on  the  departed  one.  Then  the  country  people 
separated,  leaving  a  free  passage  for  the  mother  and 
her  companion.  The  latter  gave  her  hand  to  the 
clergyman,  and  then  conducted  the  mother  slowly 
across  the  churchyard  to  the  road  which  led  to  the 
Manor. 

The  friends  followed  at  some  distance,  without  look- 
ing at  each  other.  The  Professor  passed  his  hand  over 
his  eyes.  "  Such  incidents  are  always  very  touching, " 
he  said,  sorrowfully. 

"As  she  stood  at  the  altar,"  exclaimed  the  Doctor, 


50  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"she  seemed  like  a  prophetess  of  the  olden  time,  with 
an  oaken  crown  on  her  head.  She  drew  the  poor 
woman  on  by  her  gentle  accents.  The  words  were  from 
our  good,  old  Bible ;  and  now  I  understand  the  sig- 
nificant meaning  in  ancient  times  of  the  word  '  whis- 
per,' to  which  a  magic  power  was  ascribed.  She  took 
possession  of  the  mourner  body  and  soul,  and  her 
voice  sank  deep  into  my  heart  also.  What  was  she, 
maid  or  married  woman  ?  " 

"She  is  a  maiden,"  answered  the  Professor,  im- 
pressively. "She  dwells  at  the  Manor,  and  we  shall 
meet  her  there.  Let  her  go  on,  and  we  will  wait  at 
the  foot  of  the  rock." 

They  sat  some  time  on  a  projecting  stone.  The 
Professor  never  seemed  weary  of  contemplating  a  tuft 
of  moss;  he  brushed  it  with  his  hand,  laying  it  now  on 
one  side,  now  on  the  other.  At  last  he  arose  quickly. 
"Whatever  may  come  of  it,  let  us  go  on." 

They  ascended 'the  hill  some  hundred  steps.  The 
landscape  before  them  suddenly  changed.  On  one 
side  lay  the  manor-precincts  with  a  walled  gateway 
and  a  courtyard,  in  which  stood  large  farm-buildings; 
before  them,  a  wide  plain  of  arable  land  sloped  down 
from  the  height  into  a  rich  valley.  The  lonely  wood- 
land landscape  had  disappeared  ;  around  the  wanderers 
was  the  active  stir  of  daily  life  ;  the  wind  waved  through 
the  seas  of  corn  ;  harvest  wagons  were  passing  up  the 
roads  through  the  fields ;  the  whip  cracked  and  the 
sheaves  were  swung  by  strong  arms  over  the  rails  of 
the  wagons. 

"  Hello  !  what  are  you  looking  for  here  ?  "  demanded 
a  deep  bass  voice  behind  the  strangers,  in  an  impera- 
tive tone.  The  friends  turned  quickly.  Before  the 
farmyard-gate  stood  a  powerful,  broad-shouldered  man, 


A    FOOL'S    ERRAND.  51 

with  close-cut  hair,  and  an  expression  of  deep  energy 
in  his  sunbrown  face ;  behind  him  stood  farm-em- 
ployees and  laborers,  stretching  their  heads  out  with 
curiosity  through  the  gate,  and  a  large  dog  ran  bark- 
ing toward  the  strangers.  "Back,  Nero,"  called  out 
his  master,  and  whistled  to  the  dog,  at  the  same  time 
scanning  the  strangers  with  a  cold,  searching  look. 

"Have  I  the  honor  of  addressing  the  proprietor  of 
this  estate,  a  Mr.  Bauer?"  inquired  the  Professor. 

"I  am  that  person,  and  who  are  you?"  asked  the 
Proprietor  in  return. 

The  Professor  gave  their  names,  and  that  of  the 
place  from  which  they  came.  The  host  approached 
and  examined  them  both  from  head  to  foot. 

"There  are  no  Jesuits  there,  I  suppose,"  he  said  ; 
"but  if  you  come  here  to  find  some  hidden  treasure, 
your  journey  is  useless;  you  will  find  nothing." 

The  friends  looked  at  each  other ;  they  were  near 
the  house,  but  far  from  the  goal. 

"You  make  us  feel,"  answered  the  Professor,  "that 
we  have  approached  your  dwelling  without  an  intro- 
duction. Although  you  have  already  made  a  guess  as 
to  the  object  of  our  journey,  yet  I  beg  of  you  to  permit 
us-to  make  an  explanation  before  fewer  witnesses." 

The  dignified  demeanor  of  the  Professor  did  not 
fail  to  have  an  effect.  "If  you  really  have  business 
with  me,  it  would  be  better  certainly  to  settle  it  in  the 
house.  Follow  me,  gentlemen."  He  lifted  his  cap  a 
little,  pointed  with  his  hand  to  the  gate,  and  went  ahead. 
"Nero,  you  brute,  can't  you  be  quiet?" 

The  Professor  and  the  Doctor  followed,  while  the 
farm  hands  and  laborers  and  the  growling  dog  closed 
in  behind.  Thus  the  strangers  were  conducted  in  a 
not  very  cordial  manner  to  the  house.  In  spite  of  their 


52  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

unpleasant  position,  they  looked  with  curiosity  at  the 
great  farmyard,  the  work  going  on  in  the  barns,  and  a 
flock  of  large  geese  which,  disturbed  by  the  party,  wad- 
dled cackling  across  the  road.  Then  their  eyes  fell 
upon  the  dwelling  itself,  the  broad  stone  steps  with 
benches  on  both  sides,  the  vaulted  door,  and  the  white 
washed  escutcheon  on  the  keystone.  They  entered  a 
roomy  hall,  the  Proprietor  hung  up  his  cap,  laid  hold 
with  strong  hand  of  the  latch  of  the  sitting-room  door, 
and  again  made  a  movement  of  the  hand,  which  was 
intended  to  be  polite  and  to  invite  the  strangers  to 
enter.  "Now,  that  we  are  alone,"  he  began,  "how 
can  I  serve  you  ?  You  have  already  been  announced 
tome  as  two  treasure-seekers.  If  you  are  that,  I  must 
begin  by  plainly  telling  you  that  I  will  not  encourage 
such  follies.  Apart  from  that,  I  am  glad  to  see  you." 

"But  we  are  not  treasure-seekers,"  rejoined  the 
Professor;  "and  as  we  have  kept  the  object  of  our 
journey  a  secret  everywhere,  we  do  not  understand 
how  you  could  hear  so  erroneous  a  report  concerning 
the  occasion  of  our  coming." 

"The  shoemaker  of  my  steward  brought  him  the 
intelligence  together  with  a  pair  of  mended  boots  ;  he 
saw  you  at  the  tavern  in  the  town,  and  grew  suspicious 
because  of  your  questions." 

"  He  has  exercised  more  ingenuity  than  was  called 
for  by  our  harmless  questions, "  answered  the  Professor. 
"And  yet  he  was  not  altogether  wrong." 

"Then  there  is  something  in  it,"  interrupted  the 
Proprietor,  gloomily;  "in  that  case  I  must  beg  you, 
gentlemen,  not  to  trouble  yourselves  or  me  further.  I 
have  no  time  for  such  nonsense." 

"First  of  all,  have  the  goodness  to  hear  us  before 
so  curtly  withdrawing  your  hospitality,"  replied  the 


A    FOOL'S    ERRAND.  53 

Professor,  calmly.  "We  have  come  with  no  other  aim 
than  to  impart  to  you  something  concerning  the  im- 
portance of  which  you  may  yourself  decide.  And  not 
only  we,  but  others,  might  reproach  you  if  you  refused 
our  request  without  taking  it  into  consideration.  The 
matter  concerns  you  more  than  us." 

"Of  course,"  said  the  host,  "we  are  acquainted 
with  this  style  of  speech." 

"Not  quite,"  continued  the  Professor;  "there  is  a 
difference  according  to  who  uses  it,  and  to  what  pur- 
pose." 

"Well,  then,  in  the  devil's  name,  speak,  but  be 
clear,"  exclaimed  the  Proprietor,  impatiently. 

"Not  till  you  have  shown  yourself  ready,"  con- 
tinued the  Professor,  "  to  pay  the  attention  the  im- 
portance of  the  subject  deserves.  A  short  explanation 
will  be  necessary,  and  you  have  not  even  invited  us  to 
sit  down." 

"Be  seated,"  replied  the  Proprietor,  and  offered 
chairs. 

The  Professor  began  :  "A  short  time  ago,  among 
other  written  records  of  the  monks  of  Rossau,  I  acci- 
dentally found  some  observations  in  a  manuscript  which 
may  be  of  the  greatest  importance  to  the  branch  of 
learning  to  which  I  devote  myself." 

"And  what  is  your  branch  of  learning?"  inter- 
rupted the  host,  unmoved. 

"I  am  a  philologist." 

"That  means  one  who  studies  ancient  languages?" 
asked  the  Proprietor. 

"It  is  so,"  continued  the  Professor.  "It  is  stated 
by  a  monk,  in  the  volume  I  have  mentioned,  that  about 
the  year  1500  there  existed  in  the  monastery  a  valuable 
manuscript,  containing  a  history  by  the  Roman,  Tac- 


54  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

itus.  The  work  of  the  renowned  historian  is  only  very 
imperfectly  preserved  to  us  in  some  other  well-known 
manuscripts.  A  second  notice  from  the  same  book,  in 
April,  1637,  mentions  that  during  the  troublous  war- 
times the  last  monks  of  the  monastery  had  concealed 
from  the  Swedes  their  church  treasures  and  manu- 
scripts in  a  hollow,  dry  place  in  the  Manor-house  of 
Bielstein.  These  are  the  words  I  have  found ;  I  have 
nothing  further  to  impart  to  you.  We  have  no  doubt 
of  the  genuineness  of  both  notices.  I  have  brought 
with  me  an  abstract  of  the  passages  concerning  it,  and 
I  am  ready  to  submit  the  original  to  your  inspection, 
or  that  of  any  competent  judge  whom  you  may  choose. 
I  will  only  add  now  that  both  I  and  my  friend  know 
well  how  unsatisfactory  is  the  communication  we  make 
to  you,  and  how  uncertain  is  the  prospect  that  after 
two  centuries  any  of  the  buried  possessions  of  the  mon- 
astery should  be  forthcoming.  And  yet  we  have  made 
use  of  a  vacation  to  impart  to  you  this  discovery,  even 
at  the  probable  risk  of  a  fruitless  search.  But  we  felt 
ourselves  bound  in  duty  to  make  this  journey,  not  espe- 
cially on  your  account — although  this  manuscript,  if 
found,  would  be  of  great  value  to  you — but  principally 
in  the  interest  of  science,  for  in  that  point  of  view  such 
a  discovery  would  be  invaluable." 

The  Proprietor  had  listened  attentively,  but  he  left 
untouched  the  paper  that  the  Professor  had  laid  on 
the  table  before  him.  Then  he  began  :  "I  see  that  you 
do  not  mean  to  deceive  me,  and  that  you  tell  me  the 
whole  truth  with  the  best  intentions.  I  understand 
your  explanation.  Your  Latin  I  cannot  read  ;  but  that 
is  not  necessary,  for,  with  regard  to  this  matter,  I  believe 
you.  But,"  he  continued,  laughing,  "there  is  one 
thing  which  the  learned  gentlemen  living  so  far  away 


•A    FOOL'S    ERRAND. 


55 


do  not  know,  and  that  is,  that  this  house  has  the  mis- 
fortune to  be  considered  throughout  the  whole  country 
as  a  place  in  which  the  old  monks  have  concealed 
treasures." 

"That  was  not,  of  course,  unknown  to  us,"  re- 
joined the  Doctor,  "and  it  would  not  diminish  the  sig- 
nificance of  these  written  records." 

"Then  you  were  greatly  in  error.  It  is  surely  clear 
that  such  a  report,  which  has  been  believed  in  a 
country  through  many  generations,  has  meanwhile 
stirred  up  persons  who  are  superstitious  and  greedy  of 
gain,  to  discover  these  supposed  treasures.  How  can 
you  imagine  that  you  are  the  first  to  conceive  the 
thought  of  making  a  search  ?  This  is  an  old,  strong- 
built  house,  but  it  would  be  stronger  still  if  it  did  not 
show  traces  from  cellar  to  roof  that  in  former  times 
holes  have  been  made  and  the  damage  left  unrepaired. 
Only  a  few  years  ago  I  had,  at  much  cost  and  trouble, 
to  place  new  beams  into  the  roof,  because  roof  and 
ceiling  were  sinking,  and  it  appeared,  on  examination, 
that  unscrupulous  men  had  sawed  off  a  piece  of  the 
rafter,  in  order  to  grope  into  a  corner  of  the  roof.  And 
I  tell  you  frankly,  that  if  I  have  met  with  anything 
disagreeable  from  the  old  house,  in  which  for  twenty 
years  I  have  experienced  both  happiness  and  misfor- 
tune, it  has  been  from  this  troublesome  report.  Even 
now  an  investigation  is  being  carried  on  in  the  town 
respecting  a  treasure-seeker,  who  has  deceived  cred- 
ulous people  in  giving  out  that  he  could  conjure 
up  treasures  from  this  hill.  His  accomplices  are  still 
being  tracked.  You  may  ascribe  it  to  your  questions 
in  the  town,  that  the  people  there,  who  are  much  ex- 
cited because  of  the  deception,  have  taken  you  to  be 
assistants  of  the  impostor.  My  rude  greeting  was  also 


c6  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

owing  to  this.  I  must  therefore  ask  your  pardon 
for  it." 

"Then  you  will  not  agree,"  asked  the  Professor, 
dissatisfied,  "to  make  use  of  our  communication  for 
further  researches  ?  " 

"No,"  replied  the  Proprietor,  "I  will  not  make 
such  a  fool  of  myself.  If  your  book  mentions  nothing 
more  than  what  you  have  told  me,  this  account  is  of 
little  use.  If  the  monks  have  concealed  anything  here, 
it  is  a  hundred  to  one  that  they  have  taken  it  away 
again  in  quieter  times.  And  even  if,  contrary  to  all 
probability,  the  concealed  objects  should  remain  in 
their  place — as  since  then  some  hundred  years  have 
passed — other  hungry  people  would  long  ago  have  dis- 
interred them.  These  are,  pardon  me,  nursery  stories, 
only  fit  for  spinning-rooms.  I  have  a  great  aversion 
to  all  these  notions  that  necessitate  pulling  down 
walls.  The  husbandman  should  dig  in  his  fields  and 
not  in  his  house ;  his  treasures  lie  beneath  God's 
sun." 

The  cold  demeanor  of  the  man  made  the  Professor's 
blood  boil.  He  with  difficulty  controlled  his  rising 
anger,  and,  approaching  the  window,  looked  out  at  a 
bevy  of  sparrows  that  were  twittering  vehemently  at 
one  another.  At  last,  turning  round,  he  began  : — 

"The  owner  of  a  house  has  the  right  of  refusal. 
If  you  persist  we  shall  certainly  leave  you  with  a  feel- 
ing of  regret  that  you  do  not  know  how  to  appreciate 
the  possible  importance  of  our  communication.  I  have 
been  unable  to  avoid  this  meeting,  although  I  was 
aware  how  uncertain  are  the  impressions  formed  in  a 
first  interview  with  strangers.  Our  communication 
would  perhaps  have  received  more  attention  if  it  had 
come  to  you  through  the  medium  of  your  government, 


17 


A    FOOL'S    ERRAND.  57 

accompanied  by  a  requisition  to  commence  an  active 
search." 

'  '  Do  you  regret  that  you  have  not  taken  that  course  ?" 
asked  the  Proprietor,  laughing. 

"To  speak  frankly,  no.  I  have  no  confidence  in 
official  protocols  in  such  matters." 

"Nor  have  I,"  answered  the  Proprietor,  drily. 
"Ours  is  a  small  province,  the  seat  of  Government  is 
at  a  distance,  and  we  are  surrounded  by  foreign  do- 
minions. I  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  court;  years 
pass  without  my  going  there  ;  the  government  does  not 
bother  us,  and  in  my  district  I  control  the  police.  If 
my  government  were  to  attribute  importance  to  your 
wishes,  they  would  probably  call  for  a  report  from  me, 
and  that  would  cost  me  a  sheet  of  paper  and  an  hour's 
writing.  Perhaps,  if  you  made  enough  ado,  they 
might  also  send  a  commission  to  my  house.  These 
would  announce  themselves  to  me  about  dinner-time, 
and  I  should  take  them  to  the  cellars  after  dinner  ; 
they  would,  for  form's  sake,  knock  a  little  upon  the 
walls,  and  I  meanwhile  would  have  a  few  bottles  of 
wine  opened.  At  last  a  paper  would  be  quickly  writ- 
ten, and  the  affair  would  be  settled.  I  am  thankful 
that  you  have  not  adopted  this  method.  Moreover,  I 
would  defend  my  household  rights,  even  against  my 
sovereign." 

"It  is  vain,  it  appears  to  me,  to  speak  to  you  of 
the  value  of  the  manuscript,"  interposed  the  Professor, 
severely. 

"It  would  be  of  no  avail,"  said  the  Proprietor.  It 
is  questionable  whether  such  a  curiosity,  even  if  found 
on  my  property,  would  be  of  essential  value  to  myself. 
As  to  the  value  to  your  branch  of  learning,  I  only 
know  it  from  what  you  say  ;  but  neither  for  myself  nor 


58  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

for  you  will  I  stir  a  finger,  because  I  do  not  believe 
that  such  a  treasure  is  concealed  on  my  estate,  and 
I  do  not  choose  to  sacrifice  myself  for  an  improbability. 
This  is  my  answer,  Professor." 

The  Professor  again   stepped  silently  to   the  win 
dow.     Fritz,  who,  although  indignant,  had  restrained 
himself,  felt  that  it  was  time  to  put  an  end  to  the  con- 
versation, and  rose  to  take  his  departure.      "So  you 
have  given  us  your  final  decision?" 

"I  regret  that  I  can  give  you  no  other  answer," 
replied  the  Proprietor,  compassionately,  looking  at  the 
two  strangers.  "I  really  am  sorry  that  you  have  come 
so  far  out  of  your  way.  If  you  desire  to  see  my  farm, 
every  door  shall  be  opened  to  you.  The  walls  of  my 
house  I  open  to  no  one.  I  am,  moreover,  ready  to 
keep  your  communication  a  secret,  and  the  more  so, 
as  this  would  also  be  to  my  own  interest." 

"  Your  refusal  to  allow  any  search  to  be  made  on  your 
property  renders  any  further  secrecy  unnecessary,"  an- 
swered the  Doctor.  "All  that  remains  to  my  friend 
now  is  to  publish  his  discovery  in  some  scientific  pe- 
riodical. He  will  then  have  done  his  duty,  and  per- 
haps others  may  be  more  successful  with  you  than  we 
have  been." 

The  Proprietor  started  up.  "Confound  you,  sir; 
what  the  devil  do  you  mean  ?  Will  you  tell  your  story 
to  your  colleagues  ?  Probably  these  will  think  very 
much  as  you  do." 

"Undoubtedly  hundreds  will  view  the  matter  ex- 
actly as  we  do,  and  will  also  condemn  your  refusal," 
exclaimed  the  Doctor. 

"Sir,  how  you  judge  me  is  a  matter  of  indifference 
to  me ;  I  am  perfectly  willing  to  have  you  paint  me  as 
black  as  your  love  of  truth  will  allow,"  exclaimed  the 


v- 


A    FOOL'S    ERRAND.  59 

Proprietor,  indignantly.  "But  I  see  that  all  will  be  of 
no  avail.  Hang  the  monks  and  their  treasure  !  Now  I 
may  every  Sunday  and  every  hour  of  your  vacation 
expect  a  visit  like  this  one — strange  people  with  spec- 
tacles and  umbrellas,  who  will  claim  the  right  to  creep 
under  the  wooden  trestles  of  my  dairy,  and  to  climb 
on  the  ceiling  of  the  nursery.  The  devil  take  this 
Tacitus  ! " 

The  Professor  took  his  hat.  "We  beg  to  take  leave 
of  you,"  and  went  toward  the  door. 

"Stop,  my  good  gentlemen,"  cried  the  host,  dis- 
composed ;  "not  so  quickly.  I  would  rather  deal  with 
you  two  than  have  an  incessant  pilgrimage  of  your  col- 
leagues. Wait  a  moment,  and  I  will  make  this  propo- 
sition to  you.  You,  yourselves,  shall  go  through  my 
house,  from  garret  to  cellar  ;  it  is  a  severe  tax  upon 
me  and  my  household,  but  I  will  make  the  sacrifice. 
If  you  find  a  place  that  you  think  suspicious,,  we  will 
talk  it  over.  On  the  other  hand,  promise  me  that  you 
will  be  silent  with  respect  to  the  object  of  your  visit 
here  before  my  people.  My  laborers  are  already  suf- 
ficiently aroused  without  this;  if  you  encourage  this 
unfortunate  rumor,  I  cannot  answer  for  it  that  the  idea 
will  not  occur  to  my  own  people  to  break  through  the 
foundation-wall  at  a  corner  of  the  house.  My  house  is 
open  to  you  the  whole  day  as  long  as  you  are  my 
guests.  But  then,  when  you  speak  or  write  concern- 
ing the  matter,  I  demand  that  you  shall  add  that  you 
have  done  all  in  your  power  to  search  through  my 
house,  but  have  found  nothing.  Will  you  enter  into 
this  compact  with  me  ?  " 

The  Doctor  looked  doubtfully  at  the  Professor  to 
see  whether  the  pride  of  his  friend  would  stoop  to  such 
a  condition.  Contrary  to  his  expectation,  the  coun- 


60  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

tenance  of  the  Scholar  was  radiant  with  joy,  and  he 
answered : 

"  You  have  mistaken  us  on  one  point.  We  do  not 
desire  to  take  away  the  concealed  manuscript  from 
your  possession,  but  we  have  only  come  to  persuade 
you  to  make  the  experiment.  It  seems  very  likely  to 
us,  that  we,  in  a  strange  house,  not  knowing  the  rooms, 
and  unused  to  this  kind  of  research,  shall  find  nothing. 
If,  however,  we  do  not  shun  the  ludicrous  position  in 
which  you  would  place  us,  and  accept  your  offer,  we 
do  it  only  in  the  hope  that,  during  our  stay  here,  we 
shall  succeed  in  awakening  in  you  a  greater  interest  in 
the  possible  discovery." 

The  Proprietor  shook  his  head,  and  shrugged  his 
shoulders.  "The  only  interest  I  take  in  the  matter  is 
that  it  should  be  forgotten  as  soon  as  possible.  You 
may  do  what  you  consider  your  duty.  My  business  pre- 
vents me  from  accompanying  you.  I  shall  consign 
you  to  the  care  of  my  daughter." 

He  opened  the  door  of  the  adjoining  room  and 
called,  "Use!" 

"Here,  father,"  answered  a  rich-toned  voice. 

The  Proprietor  went  into  the  next  room.  "Come 
here,  Use,  I  have  a  special  commission  for  you  to-day. 
There  are  two  strange  gentlemen  from  one  of  the  Uni- 
versities here.  They  are  looking  for  a  book  which  is 
supposed  to  have  been  concealed  in  our  house  ages 
ago.  Conduct  them  through  the  house  and  open  all 
the  rooms  to  them." 

"But,  father —  -"  interposed  the  daughter. 

"It  matters  not,"  continued  the  Proprietor,  "it 
must  be."  He  approached  closer  to  her  and  spoke  in 
a  low  tone  :  "They  are  two  scholars  and  are  crack- 
brained" — he  pointed  to  his  head.  "What  they 


A    FOOL'S    ERRAND. 


61 


imagine  is  madness,  and  I  only  give  in  to  them  in 
order  to  have  peace  in  the  future.  Be  cautious,  Use  ; 
I  do  not  know  the  people.  I  must  go  to  the  farm,  but 
will  tell  the  Inspector  to  remain  near  the  house.  They 
appear  to  me  two  honest  fools,  but  the  devil  may 
trust." 

"  I  have  no  fear,  father,"  answered  the  daughter  ; 
"the  house  is  full  of  people  :  we  shall  be  able  to  man- 
age." 

"  Take  care  that  none  of  the  servants  are  about, 
whilst  the  strangers  are  sounding  the  walls  and 
measuring.  For  the  rest,  they  do  not  look  to  me  as 
if  they  would  find  much,  even  though  all  the  walls 
were  built  up  with  books.  But  you  must  not  allow 
them  to  break  through  or  injure  the  walls." 

"  I  understand,  father,"  said  the  daughter.  "Do 
they  remain  to  dinner  ?  " 

"Yes,  your  duty  will  continue  till  evening.  The 
housekeeper  can  superintend  the  dairy  for  you." 

The  friends  heard  fragments  of  the  conversation 
through  the  door  ;  after  the  first  words  of  instruction 
they  went  quickly  to  the  window,  and  talked  aloud 
about  the  great  accumulation  of  straw  on  the  top  of  the 
barn,  which,  according  to  the  Doctor,  was  a  stork's 
nest,  while  the  Professor  maintained  that  storks  did 
not  build  their  nests  so  high.  But  intermingled  with 
this  talk  the  Professor  said  in  a  low  tone  :  "  It  is  very 
uncomfortable  for  us  to  continue  in  this  humiliating 
position.  But  we  can  only  convince  the  proprietor 
by  our  perseverance." 

"  Perhaps  we  may  yet  discover  something,"  said 
the  Doctor.  "  I  have  some  experience  in  masonry. 
As  a  boy  I  found  opportunity  while  our  house  was 
building,  to  obtain  a  fair  degree  of  knowledge  in  statics 


62  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

and  climbing  rafters.  It  is  well  that  the  tyrant  leaves 
us  alone.  Do  you  entertain  the  daughter,  I  will  mean- 
while sound  the  walls. " 

Whoever  has  followed  an  uncertain  scent  knows 
full  well  how  difficult  on  a  near  approach  are  things 
that  at  a  distance  appeared  easy.  While  at  first  the 
deceitful  Goddess  of  Hope  paints  all  favorable  chances 
in  bright  colors,  the  very  work  of  searching  raises  all 
possible  doubts.  The  alluring  picture  fades,  de- 
spondency and  weariness  cast  their  shadows  across  it; 
and  what  in  the  beginning  was  a  happy  venture  be- 
comes at  last  a  mere  effort  of  perseverance. 

CHAPTER  IV. 
THE    OLD    HOUSE. 

THE  Proprietor  re-entered  with  his  whip  in  his 
hand  and  behind  him  the  stately  maiden  of  the  church- 
yard. "This  is  my  daughter  Use;  she  will  repre- 
sent me." 

The  friends  bowed.  It  was  the  same  beautiful 
countenance ;  but  instead  of  exalted  emotion,  there 
now  rested  on  her  features  a  business-like  dignity. 
She  greeted  the  gentlemen  calmly,  and  invited  them 
to  breakfast  in  the  next  room.  She  expressed  herself 
simply,  but  again  the  friends  listened  with  admiration 
to  the  deep  tones  of  her  melodious  voice. 

"  Before  you  begin  your  search  you  must  sit  down 
at  my  table  ;  it  is  our  custom,"  said  the  host,  in  better 
humor — on  him  also  the  presence  of  the  daughter  had 
a  softening  influence.  "  We  meet  again  at  noon."  So 
saying,  he  departed. 

The  friends  followed  into  the  next  room — a  large 
dining  apartment.  There  were  chairs  along  the  wall ; 


[7 


THE    OLD    HOUSE.  63 

in  the  middle  a  long  table,  at  the  upper  end  of  which 
three  covers  were  laid.  The  young  girl  seated  herself 
between  the  gentlemen  and  offered  them  a  cold  re- 
past. "When  I  saw  you  in  the  churchyard,  I  thought 
that  you  would  visit  my  father  ;  the  table  has  been  set 
for  you  for  some  time."  The  friends  ate  a  little,  and 
thanked  her  still  more. 

"I  regret  that  our  coming  should  make  such  a  de- 
mand on  your  time,"  said  the  Professor,  gravely. 

"  My  task  is  easy,"  answered  the  young  girl.  "  I 
fear  that  yours  will  give  you  more  trouble.  There  are 
many  sitting-rooms  in  the  house  as  well  as  bedrooms 
and  attics." 

"I  have  already  told  your  father,"  answered  the 
Professor,  laughing,  "  that  it  is  not  our  intention  to 
examine  the  building  like  masons.  Pray  look  upon  us 
as  curious  people  who  .  only  wish  to  see  this  remark- 
able house,  in  so  far  as  it  would  otherwise  be  opened 
to  guests." 

"The  house  may  be  considered  remarkable  by 
strangers,"  said  Use  ;  "  we  like  it  .because  it  is  warm 
and  roomy  ;  and  when  my  father  had  been  some  years 
in  possession  of  the  estate,  and  had  the  means  to  do 
so,  he  had  the  house  comfortably  arranged  to  please 
my  deceased  mother.  We  require  plenty  of  room,  as 
I  have  six  younger  brothers  and  sisters,  and  it  is  a 
large  estate.  The  overseers  of  the  farm  eat  with  us  ; 
then  there  are  the  tutor  and  Mamselle,  and  in  the 
servants'  hall  there  are  also  twenty  people." 

The  Doctor  regarded  his  neighbor  with  a  look  of 
disappointment.  What  had  become  of  the  Sibyl  ? 
She  spoke  sensibly  and  very  much  like  a  citizen  ;  with 
her  something  might  be  accomplished. 

"  As  we  are  searching  for  hollow  spaces,"  he  began 


64  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

slyly,  "  we  would  rather  trust  to  your  guidance,  if  you 
would  tell  us  whether  there  are  any  places  in  the  wall, 
or  on  the  ground,  or  anywhere  here  in  the  house, 
that  you  know  of,  which  could  be  discovered  by 
knocking?" 

"O,  there  are  plenty  of  such  places!"  answered 
Use.  If  one  knocks  upon  the  wall  at  the  back  of  the 
small  cupboard  in  my  room,  it  is  evident  there  is  an 
empty  space  behind  ;  then  there  is  the  flagstone  under 
the  stairs,  and  many  flags  in  the  kitchen,  and  still 
more  in  other  parts  of  the  house,  regarding  which 
every  one  has  his  conjectures." 

The  Doctor  had  taken  out  his  memorandum-book 
and  noted  the  suspicious  places. 

The  inspection  of  the  house  began.  It  was  a  fine 
old  building  ;  the  walls  of  the  lower  story  were  so  thick 
that  the  Doctor  with  extended  arms  could  not  span 
the  depths  of  the  window-niches.  He  eagerly  under- 
took the  sounding,  and  began  measuring  the  walls. 
The  cellars  were  partly  hewn  in  the  rock.  In  some 
places  the  rough  stone  still  projected,  and  one  could 
perceive  where  the  wall  rested  on  the  rock.  There 
were  vast  vaults,  the  small  windows  in  the  top  of 
which  were  protected  by  strong  iron  bars, — in  ancient 
times  a  secure  refuge  against  the  shot  and  assault  of 
the  enemy.  All  was  dry  and  hollow,  for  the  house 
was  built,  as  the  Doctor  had  already  before  so  acutely 
suggested  in  speaking  of  old  buildings,  with  outer  and 
inner  walls,  and  filled  between  with  rubbish  and  broken 
stones.  Naturally,  therefore,  the  walls  in  many  places 
sounded  as  hollow  as  a  gourd.  The  Doctor  knocked, 
and  diligently  took  note.  The  knuckles  of  his  hand 
became  white  and  swelled,  and  the  number  of  good 
places  discouraged  him. 


THE    OLD    HOUSE.  65 

From  the  cellar  they  went  to  the  ground-floor-  In 
the  kitchen,  kettles  and  pots  were  steaming,  and  the 
women  who  were  working  looked  with  curiosity  at  the 
demeanor  of  the  strangers,  for  the  Doctor  kept  stamp- 
ing with  his  heel  on  the  stone  floor,  and  with  his  hands 
sounded  the  blackened  side-wall  of  the  hearth.  Behind 
were  store-rooms  and  the  visitors'  rooms.  In  one  of 
these  they  found  a  woman  in  mourning,  occupied  in 
arranging  the  beds.  It  was  the  mother  from  the  church- 
yard. She  approached  the  strangers,  and  thanked 
them  for  having  helped  to  pay  the  last  honors  to  her 
child.  The  friends  spoke  kindly  to  her  ;  she  wiped  her 
eyes  with  her  apron  and  returned  to  her  work. 

"I  begged  her  to  remain  at  home  to-day,"  said 
Use,  "but  she  would  not.  It  would,  she  thought,  be 
good  for  her  to  have  something  to  do,  and  we  would 
need  her  help  as  you  were  coming  to  us." 

It  pleased  our  scholars  to  see  that  by  the  female 
members  of  the  house,  at  least,  they  were  considered 
as  guests  entitled  to  remain. 

They  went  over  the  other  side  of  the  ground-floor, 
and  once  more  examined  the  unpretentious  room  in 
which  they  had  been  first  received.  Behind  it  lay  the 
private  room  of  the  proprietor,  a  small  unadorned 
chamber,  in  which  were  a  closet  with  shooting  and 
riding  gear,  and  a  shelf  for  title-deeds  and  books  ;  over 
the  bed  hung  a  sword  and  pistols,  and  on  the  writing- 
table  there  was  a  small  model  of  a  machine,  and  sam- 
ples of  corn  and  seeds  in  small  bags ;  against  the  wall 
stood,  in  military  array,  gigantic  water-boots,  Russian 
leather  boots,  and  top-boots  for  riding  ;  and  in  the  fur- 
ther corner  half-boots  of  calf  skin.  In  the  next  room 
they  heard  a  man's  voice,  and  the  answers  of  children 
in  regular  succession. 


66  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"That  is  the  school-room,"  said  Use,  smiling.  As 
the  door  opened,  both  solo  and  chorus  stopped.  The 
teacher,  a  student  with  an  intelligent  face,  rose  to  re- 
turn the  greeting  of  the  newcomers.  The  children 
stared  with  astonishment  at  the  unexpected  interrup- 
tion. Three  boys  and  three  girls  sat  at  two  tables,  a 
vigorous,  fair-haired  race.  "These  are  Clara,  Luise, 
Rickchen,  Hans,  Ernest,  and  Franz." 

Clara,  a  girl  of  fourteen,  almost  grown  up,  and  a 
youthful  picture  of  her  sister,  rose  with  a  courtesy. 
Hans,  a  sturdy  boy,  twelve  years  old,  made  an  inef- 
fectual attempt  at  a  bow.  The  others  remained  stand- 
ing straight,  staring  fixedly  at  the  strangers,  and  then, 
as  if  having  sufficiently  performed  a  tiresome  duty, 
dropped  down  into  their  places.  Only  little  Franz, 
a  rosy-cheeked,  curly-headed  urchin,  seven  years  old, 
remained  sitting  grimly  over  his  troublesome  task,  and 
made  use  of  the  interruption  quickly  to  find  in  his  book 
something  for  his  next  answer.  Use  stroked  his  hair, 
and  asked  the  tutor,  "How  is  he  doing  to-day?  " 

"He  has  studied  his  lesson." 

"It  is  too  hard,"  cried  Franz,  bitterly. 

The  Professor  begged  the  tutor  not  to  disturb  him- 
self, and  the  journey  recommenced  through  the  bed- 
room of  the  boys,  and  of  the  tutor,  and  again  through 
the  store-rooms,  the  ironing  and  wardrobe  rooms.  The 
Doctor  had  long  since  put  his  memorandum-book  in 
his  pocket. 

They  returned  to  the  main  hall,  where  Use  pointed 
out  the  stone  slab  on  the  step.  Once  more  the  Doctor 
knelt  down,  tried  it,  and  said  despondingly,  "Hollow 
again."  Use  ascended  the  staircase. 

"Up  here  the  girls  and  I  live." 

"Here,  then,  our  curiosity  comes   to  an  end,"  re- 


THE    OLD    HOUSE.  .  67 

plied  the  Professor,  considerately  ;  "you  see  even  my 
friend  abandons  the  search." 

"But  there  is  a  fine  view  above;  this,  at  least,  you 
must  see,"  said  their  guide.  She  opened  a  door.  "This 
is  my  room."  The  friends  stood  on  the  threshold. 
"Come  in,"  said  Use,  unembarrassed.  "From  this 
window  you  see  the  road  by  which  you  came  to  us." 

With  hesitation  the  men  approached.  This  also 
was  an  unpretentious  room  ;  there  was  not  even  a  sofa 
in  it.  The  walls  were  painted  blue;  at  the  window  was 
a  work-table  and  some  flowers  ;  in  a  corner  was  the 
bed  concealed  by  white  curtains. 

The  friends  walked  immediately  to  the  window,  and 
looking  out  saw  the  little  churchyard  and  the  tops  of 
the  oaks,  the  small  town  in  the  valley,  and  the  rows  of 
trees  behind,  which  ran  in  curved  lines  up  the  height 
where  the  view  terminated.  The  Professor  fixed  his 
eyes  on  the  old  wooden  church.  How  much  in  a  few 
hours  had  his  tone  of  mind  altered  !  Glad  expectation 
was  followed  by  the  seeming  frustration  of  their  hopes, 
and  yet  this  disappointment  was  succeeded  by  a  pleas- 
ing repose. 

"That  is  our  road  into  the  outer  world,"  indicated 
Use  ;  "we  often  look  in  that  direction  when  father  has 
been  on  a  journey  and  we  are  expecting  him,  or  when 
we  hope  for  some  good  news  by  the  postman.  And 
when  frequently  our  brother  Franz  tells  how  he  will  go 
into  the  world  when  a  man,  away  from  his  father  and 
family,  he  thinks  that  the  roads  there  will  always  look 
like  our  footpath  bordered  with  its  willow-trees." 

"Is  Franz  the  pet?"  asked  the  Professor. 

"  He  is  my  baby-brother  ;  we  lost  our  good  mother 
while  he  was  still  a  mere  infant.  The  poor  child  never 
knew  his  mother  ;  and  once  when  he  dreamt  of  her, 


[? 


68  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

the  other  children  maintained  that  he  had  changed  her 
into  me,  for  she  wore  my  dress  and  my  straw  hat. 
This  is  the  cupboard  in  the  wall,"  she  said,  sorrowfully, 
pointing  to  a  wooden  door.  The  friends  followed  in 
silence,  without  looking  at  the  cupboard.  She  stopped 
before  the  adjoining  room,  and  opened  the  door  : 
"This  was  my  mother's  room,  it  is  unaltered,  just  as 
she  left  it  ;  our  father  generally  spends  some  time  here 
on  Sundays." 

"We  cannot  allow  you  to  lead  us  any  further," 
said  the  Professor.  "  I  cannot  tell  you  how  painful  I 
feel  our  position  in  regard  to  you  to  be.  Forgive  us 
this  indelicate  intrusion  upon  your  privacy." 

"  If  you  do  not  wish  to  see  the  house  further," 
answered  Use,  with  a  look  of  gratitude,  "  I  will  gladly 
take  you  into  our  garden,  and  through  the  farmyard. 
Father  will  not  be  pleased  if  I  withhold  anything  from 
you." 

A  back  door  led  from  the  hall  into  the  garden  ;  the 
flower-beds  were  edged  with  box,  and  filled  with  sum- 
mer flowers  —  the  old  indigenous  plants  of  gardens. 
Vines  climbed  up  the  house,  as  far  as  the  windows  of 
the  upper  story,  and  the  green  grapes  everywhere 
peeped  through  the  bright  foliage.  A  hedge  of  quick- 
set separated  the  flower-beds  from  the  kitchen-garden, 
where,  besides  vegetables,  there  were  hops  climbing 
up  high  poles.  Further  on,  a  large  orchard,  with  a 
fine  lawn,  sloped  down  into  the  valley.  There  was 
nothing  remarkable  to  be  seen  here  ;  the  flower-beds 
were  in  straight  lines  ;  the  fruit  trees  stood  in  rows  ; 
the  venerable  box  and  hedge  were  stiffly  trimmed,  and 
without  gaps.  The  friends  looked  back  constantly 
over  beds  and  flowers  to  the  house,  and  admired  the 
brown  walls  showing  through  the  soft  foliage  of  the 


THE    OLD    HOUSE.  69 

vine,  as  well  as  the  stonework  of  the  windows  and 
gables. 

"  In  the  time  of  our  forefathers  it  was  a  sovereigns' 
residence,"  explained  Use,  "and  they  used  to  come 
here  every  year  to  hunt.  But  now  nothing  but  the 
dark  wood  back  there  belongs  to  him.  In  it  is  a  shoot- 
ing-box, where  the  head-forester  resides.  Our  Sover- 
eign seldom  comes  into  the  district.  It  is  a  long  time 
since  we  have  seen  our  dear  prince,  and  we  live  like 
poor  orphans." 

"Is  he  considered  a  good  ruler  ?  "  asked  the  Pro- 
fessor. 

"We  do  not  know  much  about  him  ;  but  we  believe 
that  he  is  good.  Many  years  ago,  when  I  was  yet  a 
child,  he  once  breakfasted  at  our  house,  because  there 
was  no  convenient  place  in  Rossau.  Then  I  was  sur- 
prised that  he  wore  no  red  mantle  ;  and  he  patted  me 
on  the  head,  and  gave  me  the  good  advice  to  grow, 
which  I  have  honestly  followed.  It  is  said  that  he  will 
come  again  this  year  to  hunt.  If  he  stops  with  us 
again,  the  old  house  must  put  on  its  best  attire,  and 
there  will  be  hot  cheeks  in  the  kitchen." 

While  they  were  walking  peaceably  among  the 
fruit  trees,  a  clear-toned  bell  sounded  from  the  farm- 
yard. "That  is  the  call  to  dinner,"  said  Use.  "  I  will 
take  you  to  your  room  ;  the  maid  will  show  you  to  the 
dining-room." 

The  friends  found  their  valises  in  the  visitors' 
room,  and  were  shortly  after  summoned  by  a  gentle 
knock  at  the  door,  and  conducted  into  the  dining- 
room.  There  the  proprietor  was  awaiting  them,  to- 
gethpr  with  half-a-dozen  sun-burnt  officials  of  the  farm, 
the  Mamselle,  the  tutor,  and  the  children.  When  they 
entered,  the  Proprietor  spoke  to  his  daughter  in  a 


^ 


•jO  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

window-niche  ;  the  daughter  probably  gave  a  favor- 
able report  of  them,  for  he  came  toward  them  with  tm 
clouded  countenance,  and  said  in  his  abrupt  way,  "I 
hope  you  will  put  up  with  our  fare."  He  then  intro- 
duced the  strangers  to  those  present,  calling  them  by 
their  names,  and  adding,  "two  gentlemen  from  the 
University. "  Every  one  stood  behind  his  chair,  placed 
according  to  his  station  and  age.  The  Proprietor  took 
the  head  of  the  table,  next  him  Use  ;  on  the  other  side 
the  Professor  and  Doctor  ;  then  on  both  sides  the  farm 
officials,  after  them,  the  Mamselle  and  the  girls,  the 
tutor  and  the  boys.  Little  Franz  approached  his  seat 
at  the  lower  end  of  the  table,  folded  his  hands  and 
monotonously  pronounced  a  short  grace.  Then  all 
the  chairs  were  drawn  forward  at  the  same  moment, 
and  two  maids  in  peasant  costume  brought  in  the 
dishes.  It  was  a  simple  meal  ;  a  bottle  of  wine  was 
placed  between  the  strangers;  the  host,  his  family, 
and  the  dependants  drank  a  dark,  golden  beer. 

Silently  and  zealously  each  one  fell  to  ;  only  at  the 
upper  end  of  the  table  was  there  any  conversation. 
The  friends  expressed  to  the  Proprietor  the  pleasure 
that  the  house  and  its  surroundings  afforded  them  ; 
and  the  host  laughed  ironically  when  the  Doctor  praised 
the  thick  walls  of  the  structure.  Then  the  talk  rambled 
on  to  the  surrounding  country,  and  the  dialect  and 
character  of  the  peasantry. 

"  It  has  struck  me  again  to-day, "  said  the  Professor, 
"with  what  suspicion  the  peasants  regard  us  city  folks. 
They  regard  our  language,  manners,  and  habits  as 
those  of  another  race  ;  and  when  I  see  what  the  agri- 
cultural laborer  has  in  common  with  the  so-called%edu- 
cated  classes,  I  feel  painfully  that  it  is  much  too  little. " 

"And  whose  fault  is   it, "  retorted   the   host,  "but 


THE    OLD    HOUSE.  71 

that  of  the  educated  classes  ?  Do  not  take  it  amiss,  if 
I  tell  you,  as  a  simple  man,  that  this  high  cultivation 
pleases  me  as  little  as  the  ignorance  and  stubbornness 
which  surprises  you  in  our  country  people.  You  your- 
selves, for  example,  make  a  long  journey,  in  order  to 
find  an  old  forgotten  manuscript  which  was  written  by 
an  educated  man  in  a  nation  that  has  passed  away. 
But  I  ask  what  have  millions  of  men,  who  speak«the 
same  language  as  you,  are  of  the  same  race,  and  live 
near  you,  what  have  they  gained  by  all  the  learning 
that  you  have  acquired  for  yourselves  and  small  num- 
bers of  wealthy  people  of  leisure  ?  When  you  speak 
to  my  laborers,  they  do  not  understand  you.  If  you 
wished  to  speak  to  them  of  your  learning,  my  farm 
hands  would  stand  before  you  like  savages.  Is  that  a 
sound  state  of  affairs  ?  I  tell  you,  so  long  as  this  lasts, 
we  are  not  a  well-conditioned  people." 

"If  your  words  are  meant  as  a  reproach  to  my  vo- 
cation," answered  the  Professor,  "you  are  unjust;  for 
we  are  now  actively  employed  in  making  the  discov- 
eries of  the  learned  accessible  to  the  people.  That 
much  more  should  be  done  in  this  direction,  I  do  not 
deny.  But  at  all  periods  serious  scientific  investiga- 
tions, even  when  only  intelligible  to  a  very  small  cir- 
cle, have  exercised  an  invisible  influence  on  the  souls 
and  lives  of  the  people  in  general.  These  scientific 
investigations  develop  the  language,  give  certain  ten- 
dencies to  thought,  gradually  evolve  customs,  ethics, 
and  laws,  according  to  the  needs  of  every  age.  Not 
only  practical  inventions  and  increasing-  wealth  are 
facilitated  by  them  ;  but  also,  what  surely  will  not  seem 
less;  important  to  you,  the  ideas  of  man  about  his  own 
life,  the  manner  in  which  he  performs  his  duty  toward 
others,  the  feeling  with  which  he  regards  truth  and 


y2  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

falsehood, — for  all  this  each  one  of  us  fs  indebted  to 
the  erudition  of  the  nation,  no  matter  how  little  in- 
terest he  may  take  in  the  various  investigations.  And 
let  me  use  an  old  simile.  Science  is  like  a  great  fire 
that  must  be  incessantly  maintained  in  a  nation,  be- 
cause flint  and  steel  are  unknown  to  them.  I  am  one 
of  those  whose  duty  it  is  constantly  to  throw  fresh  logs 
into  the  burning  mass.  It  is  the  task  of  others  to  carry 
the  holy  flame  throughout  the  land,  to  the  villages  and 
cottages.  Every  one  whose  object  it  is  to  diffuse  that 
light,  has  his  rights,  and  no  one  should  think  meanly 
of  another." 

"Thereis  some  truth  in  that,"  said  thehost  thought- 
fully. 

"If  the  great  fire  does  not  burn,"  continued  the 
Professor,  "the  single  flames  could  not  be  spread. 
And,  believe  me,  what  most  strengthens  and  elevates 
an  honorable  man  of  learning  in  the  most  difficult  in- 
vestigations, is  the  fact,  confirmed  by  long  experience, 
that  his  labors  will  in  the  end  conduce  to  the  benefit 
of  mankind.  They  do  not  always  help  to  invent  new 
machines,  nor  discover  new  plants  for  cultivation,  but 
they  are  nevertheless  effective  for  all,  when  they  teach 
what  is  true  and  untrue,  beautiful  and  ugly,  good  and 
bad.  In  this  sense  they  make  millions  freer,  and 
therefore  better." 

' '  I  see  at  least  by  your  words, "  said  the  host,  ' '  that 
you  hold  your  vocation  in  high  esteem ;  and  I  like  that, 
for  it  is  the  characteristic  of  an  honest  man." 

This  conversation  produced  a  pleasant  frame  of 
mind  in  both  men.  The  Inspector  rose,  and  in  a 
moment  all  the  chairs  of  the  farm  dignitaries  were 
pushed  back,  and  the  children  and  most  of  the  party 
left  the  room.  Only  the  host,  Use,  and  the  guests  sat 


THE    OLD    HOUSE.  73 

together  for  a  few  moments  longer  in  pleasant  conver- 
sation. Then  they  went  into  the  next  room,  where 
coffee  was  prepared.  Use  poured  it  out,  while  the 
Proprietor  from  his  seat  scrutinized  the  unexpected 
guests. 

The  Professor  set  the  empty  cup  down  and  began : 
"Our  task  here  is  ended,  and  we  have  to  thank  you 
for  a  hospitable  reception.  But  I  do  not  like  to  part 
without  once  more  reminding  you — 

"Why  should  you  go  ?  "  interrupted  the  Proprietor. 
"You  have  had  a  long  journey  to-day ;  you  will  not  find 
either  in  the  town  or  in  the  neighboring  villages  any  re- 
spectable lodging,  and,  in  the  pressure  of  the  harvest, 
perhaps  not  even  a  conveyance.  Pray  be  contented 
to  pass  the  night  here  ;  we.  have,  besides,  to  resume 
our  conversation  of  this  morning,"  he  added,  good- 
humoredly,  "and  I  am  anxious  to  come  to  a  good  un- 
derstanding before  we  part.  Will  you  accompany  me 
for  a  while  into  the  field,  where  my  presence  is  re1 
quired  ?  When  I  ride  to  the  distant  part  of  the  farm, 
Use  will  take  my  place.  In  the  evening  we  will  have 
a  little  sensible  talk  together." 

The  friends  readily  agreed  to  this  proposal.  The 
three  men  walked  through  the  field  engaged  in  genial 
conversation.  The  Professor  was  interested  to  see  the 
large  ears  of  a  new  variety  of  barley,  which  grew  very 
densely,  and  the  Proprietor  spoke  thoughtfully  of  this 
new  species  of  corn.  They  stopped  where  the  laborers 
were  busy.  Then  the  overseer  handed  his  report  to 
the  Proprietor,  after  which  they  crossed  the  stubble  to 
the  sheaves.  The  Proprietor  glanced  quickly  over  the 
gathered  shocks,  the  industrious  people,  and  the  pa- 
tient horses  in  the  harvest  wagons  ;  the  friends  observed 
with  interest  the  intercourse  between  the  master  of 


74 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


the  property  and  his  subordinates  and  laborers  ;  the 
short  orders  and  pertinent  answers  ;  the  zeal  and  cheer- 
ful aspect  of  the  working-people  when  they  announced 
the  number  of  •  the  sheaves,  all  well-behaved,  indus- 
trious, and  acting  in  unison.  They  returned  with  a 
feeling  of  respect  for  the  man  who  ruled  his  little  do- 
main so  firmly.  On  their  way  back  they  stopped  to 
look  at  the  foals  that  were  gamboling  about  in  a 
meadow  behind  the  barns,  and  when  the  Doctor 
praised,  above  all,  two  galloping  browns,  it  appeared 
that  he  had  admired  the  best  horses,  and  the  Pro- 
prietor smiled  upon  him  benignantly.  At  the  entrance 
to  the  farmyard  a  groom  brought  a  riding-horse,  a 
powerful  black,  with  strong  limbs  and  broad  chest : 
the  Doctor  stroked  the  horse's  neck,  and  the  Pro- 
prietor examined  the  straps.  "I  am  a  heavy  rider," 
he  said,  "and  need  a  strong  animal."  He  swung 
himself  heavily  into  the  saddle,  and,  taking  off  his  cap, 
said,  "We  meet  again  in  the  evening."  And  stately 
did  horse  and  rider  look,  as  they  trotted  along  the  road 
through  the  field. 

"The  young  lady  awaits  you,"  said  the  groom; 
"I  am  to  escort  you  to  her." 

"Have  we  made  any  progress  or  not?"  asked  the 
Doctor,  laughing,  and  taking  hold  of  his  friend's  arm. 

"A  struggle  has  begun,"  answered  the  friend  se- 
riously, "  and  who  can  say  what  will  be  the  result?  " 

Use  was  sitting  in  an  arbor  of  honeysuckle  in  the 
garden,  surrounded  by  the  children.  It  was  a  pleasant 
sight  to  see  the  young  fair-haired  family  together. 
The  girls  sat  by  their  sister ;  the  boys  ran  around  the 
arbor  playing,  with  their  afternoon  luncheon  in  their 
hands.  Seven  fresh,  well-formed  faces,  as  like  each 
other  as  blossoms  on  the  same  tree,  yet  each  develop- 


THE    OLD    HOUSE.  75 

ing  itself  at  a  different  period  of  life,  from  Franz, 
whose  round  child's  head  resembled  a  blooming  bud, 
to  the  beautiful,  full-blown  face  and  figure  that  sat  in 
the  centre,  brightly  lighted  up  by  the  glancing  rays  of 
the  sun.  Again  were  the  hearts  of  the  friends  thrilled 
by  the  appearance  of  the  girl  and  the  sound  of  her 
voice,  as  she  tenderly  scolded  little  Franz  because  he 
had  knocked  the  bread  and  butter  out  of  his  brother's 
hands.  Again  did  the  children  stare  suspiciously  at 
the  strangers,  but  the  Doctor  ignored  the  ceremonial 
of  first  acquaintance  by  taking  Franz  by  the  legs  and 
placing  him  on  his  shoulders,  seating  himself  with  his 
rider  in  the  arbor.  The  little  lad  sat  for  a  few  moments 
on  his  elevation  quite  surprised,  and  the  children 
laughed  aloud  at  his  round  eyes  looking  so  frightened- 
at  the  stranger's  head  between  his  little  legs.  But  the 
laughter  of  the  others  gave  him  courage,  and  he  began 
to  pummel  lustily  with  his  feet,  and  to  brandish  his 
bread  triumphantly  round  the  locks  of  the  stranger. 
Thus  the  acquaintance  was  made;  a  few  minutes  later, 
the  Doctor  went  with  the  children  through  the  garden, 
allowing  himself  to  be  chased,  and  trying  to  catch  the 
shouting  crew  between  the  flower-beds. 

"  If  you  like,  we  will  go  where  you  can  obtain  the 
best  view  of  our  house,"  said  Use,  to  the  Professor. 

Surrounded  by  the  children  they  walked  along  the 
road  that  led  to  the  church.  A  winding  footpath  ran 
down  to  the  bottom,  where  a  strip  of  meadow  bordered 
the  bubbling  brook.  From  this  deep  dell  they  ascended 
some  hundred  steps.  Before  them  rose  from  the  copse 
a  huge  rock  ;  they  passed  round  it  and  stood  by  a  stone 
grotto.  The  rock  formed  the  portal  and  walls  of  a 
cave  which  penetrated  about  ten  paces  into  the  hill. 
The  ground  was  level,  covered  with  white  sand  ;  bram- 


76  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

ble-bushes  and  wild  roses  hung  down  over  the  en- 
trance ;  in  the  midst  of  them  grew  a  large  bush  of 
willow-rose;  it  hung  with  its  thick  blossoms  like  a 
plume  of  red  feathers  over  the  rocky  arch  of  the  grotto. 
The  trace  of  an  old  wall  on  the  side  showed  that  the 
cave  had  once  been  a  refuge  either  for  the  oppressed 
or  the  lawless ;  at  the  entrance  lay  a  stone,  the  upper 
surface  of  which  had  been  smoothed  for  a  seat ;  in  the 
obscure  light  of  the  background  stood  a  stone  bench. 

"There  is  our  house,"  said  Use,  pointing  over  the 
valley  to  the  height  where  the  gables  rose  behind  the 
fruit  trees  of  the  garden.  "It  is  so  near  that  a  loud 
call  would  be  heard  here." 

The  friends  looked  from  the  twilight  of  the  cave 
into  the  bright  light  of  day,  on  the  stone  house  and  the 
trees  which  stood  below  it. 

"All  is  quiet  in  the  wood,"  continued  Use;  "even 
the  voice  of  the  birds  has  ceased ;  they  have  left  their 
nests  for  the  harvest  fields,  where  they  congregate  in 
flocks." 

"I  hear  a  gentle  murmur,  like  the  gurgling  of 
water,"  said  the  Professor. 

"A  stream  runs  over  the  stones  below,"  explained 
Use.  "Now  it  is  scanty,  but  in  the  spring  much  water 
collects  from  the  hills.  Then  the  sound  of  the  rushing 
water  becomes  loud,  and  the  brook  courses  wildly  over 
the  stones ;  it  covers  the  meadows  below,  fills  the 
whole  valley,  and  rises  up  to  the  copse-wood.  But  in 
warm  weather  this  is  a  pleasant  resting-place  for  us 
all.  When  my  father  bought  the  estate  the  cave  was 
overgrown,  the  entrance  choked  up  with  stones  and 
earth,  and  it  was  the  abode  of  owls.  He  had  it  opened 
and  cleared." 

The   Professor  examined  the  cave  with  curiosity, 


THE    OLD    HOUSE.  77 

and  struck  the  red  rock  with  his  cane.  Use  standing 
apart  watched  him  with  troubled  look.  "Now  he  is 
beginning  his  search,"  she  thought. 

"  It  is  all  old  stone,"  she  exclaimed. 

The  Doctor  had  been  clambering  outside  the  cave 
with  the  children.  He  now  freed  himself  from  Hans, 
who  had  just  confided  to  him  that  among  the  thick 
alder  bushes  there  was  the  empty  nest  of  a  mountain 
titmouse. 

"This  must  be  a  wonderful  place  for  the  legends 
of  the  country,"  he  exclaimed,  with  delight ;  "there 
cannot  be  a  more  charming  home  for  the  spirits  of  the 
valley." 

"People  talk  absurd  stuff  about  it,"  rejoined  Use, 
with  a  tone  of  disapprobation.  "They  say  that  little 
dwarfs  dwell  here,  and  that  their  footsteps  can  be  per- 
ceived in  the  sand,  yet  the  sand  was  first  brought  here 
by  my  father.  Nevertheless,  the  people  are  frightened, 
and  when  evening  comes  the  women  and  children  of 
the  laborers  do  not  like  to  pass  it.  But  they  conceal 
this  from  us,  as  my  father  cannot  bear  superstition." 

"The  dwarfs  are  evidently  not  in  favor  with  you," 
answered  the  Doctor. 

"As  there  are  none,  we  ought  not  to  believe  in 
them,"  replied  Use,  eagerly.  "Men  ought  to  believe 
what  the  Bible  teaches  ;  not  in  wild  beings  that,  as 
they  say  in  the  village,  fly  through  the  wood  in  the 
night.  Lately  an  old  woman  was  ill  in  a  neighboring 
village,  no  one  would  bring  her  any  food,  and  they  dis- 
gracefully rejoiced  in  her  sickness  because  they  thought 
the  poor  woman  could  change  herself  into  a  black  cat 
and  injure  the  cattle.  When  we  first  heard  of  it,  the 
woman  was  in  danger  of  dying  of  starvation.  This  idle 
talk  is  therefore  wicked." 


78  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

The  Doctor  had  meanwhile  noted  down  the  dwarfs 
in  his  note-book  ;  but  he  looked  dissatisfied  at  Use, 
who,  speaking  from  the  dusk  in  the  rear  of  the  cave, 
resembled  a  legendary  figure. 

"She  does  not  object  to  sly  Jacob,  who  deceived 
his  blind  father  by  putting  kid  skins  on  his  arms  ;  but 
our  fairy-lore  is  distasteful  to  her." 

He  put  his  note-book  up  again  and  went  with  Hans 
after  the  titmouse. 

The  Professor  had,  with  amusement,  observed  the 
secret  vexation  of  his  friend  ;  but  Use  turned  to  him, 
saying: 

"  I  am  surprised  that  your  friend  takes  note  of  such 
stories  ;  it  is  not  right,  such  things  should  be  for- 
gotten." 

"You  know  that  he  himself  does  not  believe  in 
them,"  answered  the  Professor,  in  mitigation.  "What 
he  searches  for  are  only  the  traditions  of  the  people. 
For  these  legends  originated  in  a  time  when  our  whole 
nation  believed  in  these  spirits,  as  they  do  now  the 
teachings  of  the  Bible.  He  collects  these  reminiscen- 
ces in  order  to  ascertain  what  was  the  faith  and  poetry 
of  our  ancestors." 

The  maiden  was  silent.    Then  after  a  time  she  said  : 

"This  also,  then,  is  connected  with  your  labors." 

"It  is,"  replied  the  Professor. 

"It  is  good  to  listen  to  you,"  continued  Use,  "for 
your  mode  of  speech  is  different  from  ours.  Formerly 
when  it  was  said  of  any  one,  he  speaks  like  a  book,  I 
thought  it  was  a  reproach  ;  but  there  is  no  doubt  that 
this  is  the  correct  expression,  and  it  gives  one  pleasure 
to  listen." 

Thus  saying,  with  her  large  open  eyes  she  looked 
from  the  interior  of  the  grotto  at  the  Scholar,  who  stood 


THE    OLD    HOUSE. 


79 


in  the  entrance  leaning  against  the  stone,  brightly 
lighted  up  by  the  rays  of  the  sun. 

"There  are,  however,  many  books  that  talk  badly," 
answered  the  Professor,  smiling;  "and  nothing  tires 
one  so  much  as  lengthy  book-wisdom  from  living 
mouths." 

"Yes,  yes,"  acquiesced  Use.  "We  have  an  ac- 
quaintance, a  learned  woman,  Mrs.  Rollmaus.  When 
she  visits  us  on  Sundays,  she  places  herself  on  the  sofa, 
and  begins  a  discourse  with  my  father.  He  cannot 
escape  her,  turn  which  way  he  will,  she  knows  how  to 
pin  him  down  by  talking  about  the  English  and  Cir- 
cassians, comets  and  poets.  But  the  children  dis- 
covered she  had  a  cyclopedia  for  conversation,  from 
which  she  gathers  it  ail ;  and  when  anything  happens 
in  the  country,  or  the  newspapers  make  a  noise  about 
anything,  she  reads  in  the  cyclopedia  what  bears  upon 
it.  We  have  procured  the  same  book,  and  when  her 
visit  is  impending,  we  think  over  what  subject  is  then 
uppermost.  Then  the  children  look  out  and  read  this 
beforehand,  Saturday  evenings ;  and  our  father  also 
listens  and  himself  looks  at  the  book,  and  the  next  day 
the  children  are  delighted  that  father  vanquishes  the 
lady  by  means  of  her  own  book  ;  for  our  book  is  a 
newer  edition,  and  has  new  events  in  it  of  which  she 
knows  little." 

"So  Sunday  is  the  time  when  we  can  win  honors 
here,"  said  the  Professor. 

"In  winter  we  meet  often  during  the  week,"  con- 
tinued Use.  "But  there  is  not  much  intercourse  in 
the  neighborhood ;  and  if  we  sometimes  chance  to 
have  a  visitor  who  leaves  some  pleasant  thoughts  be- 
hind, we  are  grateful  and  preserve  them  faithfully." 

"Yet  the  best  thoughts  are  those  which  come  to 


(? 


8o  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

men  through  their  own  exertions,"  said  the  Professor, 
kindly.  "The  little  that  I  have  seen  on  the  estate 
here  tells  me  how  beautifully  life  can  thrive,  even 
when  far  removed  from  the  noisy  bustle  of  the  world." 

"That  was  a  kindly  speech,  "exclaimed  Use.  "But 
we  are  not  lonely  here  ;  and  we  do  interest  our- 
selves about  our  countrymen,  and  about  the  great 
world.  When  the  neighboring  proprietors  come  to 
visit,  not  a  word  is  said  about  the  farm,  and  amusing 
subjects  are  talked  of.  Then  there  is  our  dear  Pastor, 
who  tells  us  about  things  in  foreign  parts,  and  reads 
the  newspapers  that  are  taken  by  my  father  with  us. 
And  when  there  are  applications  in  them  for  contribu- 
tions to  serve  a  good  object,  the  children  are  liberal, 
and  each  gives  his  mite  from  his  savings,  but  our 
father  gives  abundantly.  And  Hans,  as  the  eldest, 
collects,  and  has  the  right  to  pack  up  the  money,  and 
in  the  accompanying  letter  he  sets  down  the  initial  of 
the  name  of  each  that  has  contributed.  Then  after- 
wards there  comes  a  printed  receipt,  when  each  looks 
for  his  own  initial.  Often  a  wrong  one  has  been 
printed,  and  this  vexes  the  children." 

From  the  distance  they  heard  the  cries  and  laughter 
of  the  children,  who  were  returning  with  the  Doctor 
from  their  excursion.  The  girl  rose,  the  Professor 
approached  her,  and  said  with  much  feeling  : 

"Whenever  my  thoughts  revert  to  this  day,  it  will 
be  with  a  feeling  of  heartfelt  gratitude  for  the  manner 
in  which  you  have  so  honestly  spoken  of  your  happy 
life  to  a  stranger." 

Use  looked  at  him  with  innocent  confidence. 

"You  are  not  a  stranger  to  me;  for  I  saw  you  at 
the  child's  grave." 


THE    OLD    HOUSE.  8t 

The  joyous  troop  surrounded  them  both,  and  they 
proceeded  further  into  the  valley. 

It  was  evening  when  they  returned  to  the  house 
where  the  proprietor  was  already  awaiting  them.  After 
supper  the  elders  passed  another  hour  together.  The 
strangers  gave  an  account  of  their  tour,  and  told  the 
last  news  from  the  world ;  and  then  there  was  conver- 
sation on  politics,  and  Use  rejoiced  that  her  father  and 
the  strangers  agreed  so  well  on  the  subject.  When 
the  cuckoo  on  the  house  clock  proclaimed  that  it  was 
ten,  they  separated  with  a  friendly  good-night. 

The  housemaid  lighted  the  strangers  to  their  bed- 
room. Use  sat  on  a  chair  with  her  hands  folded  on 
her  lap,  looking  silently  before  her.  After  a  short  time 
the  proprietor  came  from  his  room  and  took  the  bed- 
room candle  from  the  table. 

"What!  Still  up,  Use?  How  do  the  strangers 
please  you?  " 

"Very  much,  father,"  said  the  maiden,  gently. 

"They  are  not  such  simpletons  as  they  look,"  said 
the  host,  pacing  to  and  fro.  "What  he  said  of  the 
great  fire  was  right,"  he  repeated,  "and  that  about 
our  little  governments  was  also  right.  The  younger 
would  have  made  a  good  schoolmaster  ;  and  as  for  the 
tall  one,  by  heaven  it  is  a  shame  that  he  has  not  worn 
jack-boots  these  four  years;  he  would  be  a  clever  in- 
spector. Good-night,  Use." 

"Good-night,  father."  The  daughter  rose  and  fol- 
lowed her  father  to  the  door.  "Do  the  strangers  re- 
main here  to-morrow,  father  ?  " 

"Hum,"  said  the  host,  meditating.  "They  will 
remain  for  dinner  at  all  events  ;  I  will  show  them  over 
the  farm.  See  that  you  have  something  nice  for 
dinner." 


[be 


82  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"Father,  the  Professor  has  never  in  his  life  eaten 
roast  pig,"  said  the  daughter. 

"Use,  what  are  you  thinking  of?  My  pig  for  the 
sake  of  Tacitus  !  "  exclaimed  the  Proprietor.  "  No,  I 
cannot  stand  that ;  be  content  with  your  poultry.  Stop  ! 
Just  hand  me  the  volume  of  the  encyclopedia  lettered 
T,  I  want  to  read  up  about  that  fellow." 

"Here,  father;  I  know  where  it  is." 

"  See  !  See  !  "  said  the  father,  "just  like  Mrs.  Roll- 
maus.  Good-night." 

The  Doctor  looked  through  the  window  into  the 
dark  court.  Sleep  and  peace  lay  over  the  wide  space  ; 
from  a  distance  sounded  the  tread  of  the  watchman  who 
went  his  rounds  through  the  homestead,  and  then  the 
suppressed  howl  of  the  farm  dog. 

"  Here  we  are,"  he  said,  at  last,  "two  genuine  ad- 
venturers in  the  enemy's  fortress.  Whether  we  shall 
carry  anything  away  from  it,  is  very  doubtful,"  he 
continued,  looking  significantly  at  his  friend,  with  a 
smile. 

"It  is  doubtful,"  said  the  Professor,  measuring  the 
room  with  long  strides. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  you,  Felix?"  asked 
Fritz,  anxiously,  after  a  pause;  "you  are  very  absent- 
minded,  which  is  not  usually  your  way." 

The  Professor  stood  still. 

"I  have  nothing  to  tell  you.  I  have  strong  but 
confused  feelings,  which  I  am  trying  to  control.  I  fear 
I  have  this  day  received  an  impression  against  which 
a  sensible  man  should  guard  himself.  Ask  me  nothing 
further,  Fritz,"  he  continued,  pressing  his  hand  vehe- 
mently. "I  do  not  feel  unhappy." 

Fritz,  deeply  troubled,  placed  himself  on  his  bed, 
and  looked  for  a  boot-jack. 


THE    OLD    HOUSE.  83 

"How  does  our  host  please  you  ?  "  he  asked,  in  a 
low  tone,  and,  in  order  to  appear  unconcerned,  tapping 
with  his  foot  on  the  floor. 

"A  worthy  man,"  answered  the  Professor,  again 
stopping,  "but  his  manner  is  different  from  what  we 
are  accustomed  to." 

"  He  is  of  old  Saxon  origin,"  the  Doctor  proceeded, 
"broad  shoulders,  giant  height,  open  countenance, 
solidity  in  every  movement.  The  children  also  are  of 
the  same  type,"  he  continued  ;  "  the  daughter  is  some- 
what of  a  Thusnelda." 

'•'The  similitude  does  not  apply,"  rejoined  the  Pro- 
fessor, roughly,  continuing  his  walk. 

Fritz  drew  off  the  second  boot  in  a  slightly  dis- 
cordant mood. 

"  How  does  the  eldest  boy  please  you  ?  He  has  the 
bright  hair  of  his  sister." 

"No  comparison,"  said  the  Professor,  again  lacon- 
ically. 

Fritz  placed  both  boots  before  the  bed,  and  himself 
upon  it,  and  said  with  decision  : 

"I  am  ready  to  respect  your  humor,  even  when  I 
cannot  quite  understand  it ;  but  I  beg  you  to  take  into 
consideration  that  we  have  forced  ourselves  on  the 
hospitality  of  these  people,  and  that  we  ought  not  to 
take  advantage  of  it  beyond  to-morrow  morning." 

"Fritz,"  cried  the  Professor,  with  deep  feeling, 
"you  are  my  dear,  true  friend  ;  have  patience  with  me 
to-day ! "  So  saying,  he  turned  round,  and  breaking 
off  the  conversation,  approached  the  window. 

Fritz  was  almost  beside  himself  with  anxiety.  This 
noble  man,  so  confident  in  all  he  wrote,  so  full  of  de- 
liberation, and  so  firm  in  decision,  even  with  regard 
to  the  obscurest  passages — and  now  some  emotion  was 


[? 


84  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

working  in  him  which  shook  his  whole  being.  How 
could  this  man  be  so  disturbed  ?  He  could  look  back 
with  majestic  clearness  on  a  past  of  many  thousand 
years,  and  now  he  was  standing  at  a  window  looking 
at  a  cow-stable,  and  something  like  a  sigh  sounded 
through  the  room.  And  what  was  to  come  of  it  ?  These 
thoughts  occupied  incessantly  the  Doctor's  mind. 

Long  did  the  Professor  pace  up  and  down  the  room  ; 
Fritz  feigned  to  sleep,  but  kept  peeping  from  under 
the  bedclothes  at  his  excited  friend.  At  last  the  Pro- 
fessor extinguished  the  light  and  threw  himself  on  his 
bed.  Soon  his  deep  breathing  showed  that  beneficent 
nature  had  softened  the  pulses  of  that  beating  heart. 
But  the  Doctor's  anxiety  held  its  ground  more  pertina- 
ciously. From  time  to  time  he  raised  his  head  from 
his  pillow,  searched  for  his  spectacles  on  the  nearest 
chair,  without  which  he  could  not  see  the  Professor, 
and  spied  through  them  at  the  other  bed,  again  took 
off  his  spectacles,  and  lay  down  on  the  pillow  with  a 
gentle  sigh.  This  act  of  friendship  he  repeated  many 
times,  till  at  last  he  fell  into  a  deep  sleep,  shortly  be- 
fore the  sparrows  sang  their  morning  song  in  the  vine- 
arbor  beneath. 

CHAPTER  V. 

AMONG    HERDS    AND    SHEAVES. 

THE  friends  on  awakening  heard  the  clock  in  the 
courtyard  striking,  the  wagons  rolling  before  the  win- 
dow, and  the  bells  of  the  herds  tinkling.  For  a  moment 
they  looked  bewildered  at  the  walls  of  the  strange 
room,  and  through  the  window  out  on  the  sunny 
garden.  While  the  Doctor  wrote  his  memoranda  and 
packed  up  his  bundle,  the  Professor  walked  out.  The 
daily  work  had  long  begun  ;  the  men  with  their  teams 


AMONG    HERDS    AND    SHEAVES.  85 

were  gone  to  the  field  ;  the  Inspector  hastened  busily 
about  the  open  barns  ;  encircled  by  the  dogs,  the  bleat- 
ing sheep  thronged  before  the  stable. 

The  landscape  shone  in  the  light  of  a  cloudless  sky. 
The  mist  hovered  over  the  earth,  subduing  the  clear 
light  of  the  morning  sun,  blending  it  with  a  delicate 
grey.  The  houses  and  trees  still  cast  long  shadows, 
the  coolness  of  the  dewy  night  still  lingered  in  shady 
places,  and  the  soft,  light  breeze  fanned  the  cheeks  of 
the  Scholar,  now  with  the  warmth  of  the  early  day- 
light, now  with  the  refreshing  breath  of  night. 

He  walked  about  the  buildings  and  the  farmyard  in 
order  to  acquaint  himself  with  the  place,  of  which 
henceforth  he  was  to  have  mingled  recollections  in  his 
soul.  The  persons  who  dwelt  here  had  with  some 
hesitation  disclosed  their  life  to  him,  and  much  in  their 
simple  pastoral  existence  appeared  to  him  pleasing  and 
attractive.  The  influences  that  here  produced  activity 
and  energy  could  everywhere  be  seen.  The  tasks  for 
each  one  and  the  duties  for  each  day  grew  in  the  soil 
of  the  farm  and  the  surrounding  country.  Their  views 
of  life  and  of  the  world  were  all  in  accordance  with 
their  surroundings.  He  felt  keenly  how  worthily  and 
happily  men  could  live  whose  life  was  so  firmly  in- 
terwoven with  nature  and  the  primitive  necessities  of 
man.  But  for  himself  his  life  was  regulated  by  other 
influences,  was  actuated  by  the  thousand  impressions 
of  ancient  and  modern  times,  and  not  unfrequently  by 
the  forms  and  circumstances  of  the  distant  past.  For 
a  man's  doings  in  life  are  more  to  him  than  the  passing 
labor  of  the  day,  and  all  that  he  has  done  continues  to 
work  within  him  as  a  living  principle.  The  naturalist, 
whose  desire  for  rare  plants  impels  him  to  the  towering 
mountain-top,  whence  return  is  impossible  ;  the  soldier, 


86  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

whose  recollection  of  the  excitement  of  old  battles  im- 
pels him  into  new  combats — these  are  both  led  by  the 
power  of  thoughts  which  their  past  lives  have  made 
a  part  of  their  being.  Man,  it  is  true,  is  not  the 
slave  of  what  he  has  done,  if  he  has  not  stooped  to 
a  lower  level  ;  his  will  is  free,  he  chooses  as  he 
likes,  and  casts  off  what  he  does  not  care  to  preserve ; 
but  the  forms  and  ideas  that  have  entered  into  his 
soul  work  on  and  guide  him  unceasingly  ;  he  has 
often  to  guard  himself  against  their  mastery,  but 
in  a  thousand  cases  he  joyfully  follows  their  gentle 
guidance.  All  that  was  and  all  that  is  continues  far 
beyond  his  mere  earthly  existence  in  every  new  being 
into  which  it  penetrates.  It  may  influence  millions,  for 
ages — ennobling,  elevating,  or  degrading  individuals 
and  nations.  Thus  the  spirits  of  the  past,  the  forces 
of  nature,  even  our  own  actions  and  thoughts  become 
an  inalienable,  component  part  of  the  soul,  influencing 
our  lives.  The  learned  man  smiled  as  he  thus  thought 
how  the  strange,  old  reminiscences  of  thousands  of 
years  had  brought  him  among  these  country  people, 
and  how  differently  the  different  activity  and  occupa- 
.tion  of  the  man  who  ruled  here,  had  shaped  his  mind 
and  judgment. 

Amid  these  thoughts  the  lowing  of  the  cattle  sounded 
softly  from  the  stalls.  Looking  up,  he  saw  a  num- 
ber of  maids  carrying  full  milk-pails  to  the  dairy.  Be- 
hind them  went  Use,  in  a  simple  morning  dress  ;  her 
fair  hair  shone  in  the  sun  like  spun  gold,  and  her  step 
was  brisk  and  vigorous  like  the  early  morn.  The  Pro- 
fessor felt  shy  about  approaching  her  ;  his  eyes  followed 
her  thoughtfully  ;  she  also  was  one  of  -the  forms  that 
henceforth  was  to  live  within  him,  the  ideal  of  his 
dreams — perhaps  of  his  wishes.  For  how  long?  and 


AMONG    HERDS    AND    SHEAVES.  87 

how  powerfully?  He  did  not  realize  that  his  Roman 
emperors  were  to  aid  in  answering  this  question  within 
the  next  hour. 

The  proprietor  came  across  the  farm-yard  and, 
greeting  the  Professor,  invited  him  to  take  a  short  walk 
into  the  fields.  As  the  two  walked  together — both 
able  men,  and  yet  so  different  in  face  and  figure,  in 
mind  and  manners — many  would  have  noted  the  con- 
trast with  deep  interest,  and  Use  not  last  among  them. 
But  no  one  that  did  not  have  the  eyes  of  a  treasure- 
seeker  or  exorcist  could  perceive  how  different  were  the  * 
invisible  retinues  of  tiny  spirits  that  flitted  round  the 
temples  and  shoulders  of  each, — comparable  to  swarms 
of  countless  birds  or  bees.  The  spirits  that  attended 
the  farmer  were  in  homely  working  garb,  blue  blouses 
and  fluttering  bandanas,  among  them  a  few  forms  in 
the  misty  robes  of  Faith,  Hope,  and  Charity.  On 
the  other  hand,  round  the  Professor  swarmed  an  in- 
visible throng  of  foreign  phantoms  with  togas,  and 
antique  helmets,  in  purple  robes  and  Greek  chlamys, 
athletes  also — some  with  bundles  of  rods  and  winged 
hats.  The  little  retinue  of  the  Proprietor  flew  in- 
cessantly over  the  fields  and  back  again  ;  the  swarm 
round  the  Professor  remained  steadily  by  him.  At 
last  the  proprietor  stopped  at  one  particular  field  ;  he 
looked  at  it  with  great  deligh't,  and  mentioned  that  he 
had  here  succeeded  by  deep  ploughing  in  growing 
green  lupines,  then  newly  introduced  into  cultivation. 
The  Professor  seemed  surprised  ;  among  his  spirit- 
retinue  there  arose  a  confused  stir ;  one  of  the  small 
antique  spirits  flew  to  the  nearest  clod  of  earth  and 
fastened  thereto  a  delicate  web  which  it  had  spun  from 
the  head  of  the  Professor.  Whereupon  the  Professor 
told  his  companion  how  deep  ploughing  for  green  lu- 


[7 


88  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

pines  had  been  the  custom  of  the  Romans,  and  how 
rejoiced  he  was  that  now  after  more  than  a  thousand 
years  this  old  discovery  had  been  brought  to  light  again 
in  our  farming.  They  then  spoke  of  the  change  in 
agriculture,  and  the  Professor  mentioned  how  striking 
it  was  that  three  hundred  years  after  the  beginning  of 
our  era,  the  corn  exchanges  at  the  harbors  of  the 
Black  Sea  and  Asia  Minor  were  so  similar  to  those  of 
Hamburg  and  London  in  modern  days,  while  at  present 
other  agricultural  produce  was  principally  cultivated 
in  the  East.  Finally,  he  told  him  of  a  grain  tariff 
that  was  imposed  by  a  Roman  emperor,  and  that 
unfortunately  the  price  of  wheat  and  barley,  the  two 
products  on  which  then  depended  other  prices  and 
duties,  were  effaced  from  the  stone  tablet  that  had 
been  preserved.  And  he  explained  why  this  loss  was 
so  much  to  be  lamented.  Then  the  heart  of  the  host  be- 
gan to  expand,  and  he  assured  the  Professor  that  the  fact 
need  not  be  lamented,  for  the  lost  value  might  be  fixed 
from  the  price  of  the  remaining  products  bearing  straw 
and  husk,  because  the  prices  of  all  agricultural  produce 
taken  as  a  whole  bore  a  firm  and  ancient  ratio  among 
each  other.  He  gave  this  relation  of  their  productive 
value  in  figures,  and  the  Professor  discovered  with  joy- 
ful astonishment  that  they  agreed  with  the  tariff  of  his 
old  Emperor  Diocletian'. 

While  the  men  were  carrying  on  this  desultory  con- 
versation, a  mischievous  wide  awake  spirit,  probably 
the  Emperor  Diocletian  himself,  flew  from  the  Pro- 
fessor, made  his  way  through  the  peasant  spirits  of  the 
proprietor,  placed  himself  in  his  purple  robe  on  the 
head  of  the  master,  stamped  with  his  little  feet  on  his 
skull,  and  impressed  the  farmer  with  the  belief  that 
the  Professor  was  a  sensible  and  worthy  man,  who 


AMONG    HERDS    AND    SHEAVES.  89 

might  give  him  further  information  on  the  value  and 
price  of  agricultural  produce.  It  also  pleased  the  Pro- 
prietor much  that  he  could  give  the  learned  gentleman 
instruction  in  his  own  department. 

When,  at  the  end  of  an  hour,  the  two  strollers  re- 
turned to  the  house,  the  Proprietor  stopped  at  the 
door  and  said  with  some  solemnity  to  the  Professor, 
"When  I  brought  you  here  yesterday,  I  little  knew 
whom  I  had  with  me.  It  grieves  me  that  I  greeted  so 
inhospitably  a  man  like  you.  Your  acquaintance  has 
become  a  pleasure  to  me ;  it  is  rare  to  meet  with  a 
person  with  whom  one  can  speak  about  everything 
as  one  can  with  you.  As  you  are  traveling  for  recrea- 
tion, pray  be  pleased  to  pass  some  time  with  us  simple 
folk — the  longer  the  better.  It  is  indeed  not  a  season 
when  a  country  host  can  make  the  house  agreeable  to 
his  guests,  so  you  must  be  content.  If  you  wish  to 
work,  and  require  books,  you  may  have  them  brought 
here  ;  and  pray  observe  whether  the  Romans  had  win- 
ter barley  which  was  lighter  than  ours.  Do  me  the 
honor  of  accepting  my  invitation."  So  saying,  he  cor- 
dially extended  his  hand  to  his  guest.  The  Professor's 
countenance  beamed  with  delight ;  he  eagerly  clasped 
the  hand  of  his  friendly  host.  "  If  you  are  willing  to 
keep  me  and  my  friend  a  few  days  longer,  I  accept 
your  invitation  with  all  my  heart.  I  must  tell  you  that 
the  insight  into  a  new  circle  of  human  interests  is  most 
valuable  to  me,  but  still  more  so  the  kindness  with 
which  you  have  treated  us." 

"Settled!"  exclaimed  the  Proprietor,  cheerfully; 
"now  we  will  call  your  friend." 

The  Doctor  opened  his  door.  When  the  Proprietor 
warmly  repeated  the  invitation  to  him,  he  looked  for 
a  moment  earnestly  at  his  friend,  and  when  the  latter 


9° 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


gave  him  a  friendly  nod,  he  also  accepted  for  the  few 
days  which  were  still  free  before  the  promised  visit  to 
his  relatives.  Thus  it  happened  that  the  Emperor 
Diocletian,  fifteen  hundred  years  after  he  had  unvol- 
untarily  left  the  world,  exercised  his  tyrannical  power 
over  the  Professor  and  Proprietor.  Whether  there 
were  other  ancient  powers  actively  working  in  secret, 
is  not  ascertained. 

Use  listened  silently  to  her  father's  information  that 
the  gentlemen  would  be  his  guests  some  time  longer, 
but  her  look  fell  so  bright  and  warm  on  the  strangers 
that  they  rejoiced  in  being  welcomed  by  her  also. 

From  this  hour  they  were  introduced  into  the  house- 
hold as  old  acquaintances,  and  both,  though  they  had 
never  lived  in  the  country,  felt  it  indispensable,  and 
as  if  they  had  returned  to  a  home  in  which  years  be- 
fore they  had  once  bustled  about.  It  was  a  busy  life 
there,  and  yet,  even  when  work  was  most  pressing  and 
earnest,  there  was  a  cheerful  repose  about  it.  Without 
much  ado  they  all  worked  in  unison.  The  daylight 
was  the  supreme  patron,  who,  at  its  rise,  called  to 
work,  and  when  extinguished,  gave  rest  to  weary  limbs  ; 
the  laborers  looked  up  to  the  sky  to  measure  their 
hours  of  work,  and  the  sun  and  the  clouds  influenced 
their  frame  of  mind,  sometimes  inducing  comfort  and 
sometimes  anxiety.  Slowly  and  gently,  as  nature  draws 
the  blossoms  out  of  the  earth  and  matures  the  fruits, 
did  the  feelings  of  these  men  grow  into  blossoms  and 
fruits.  In  peaceful  relations  the  workers  passed  their 
lives.  Small  impressions,  such  as  a  few  kind  words 
or  a  friendly  look,  sufficed  to  entwine  a  firm  bond  round 
these  various  natures — a  bond  woven  with  invisible 
threads  ;  but  which  attained  a  strength  sufficient  to 
last  through  a  whole  life. 


AMONG    HERDS    AND    SHEAVES.  91 

The  friends  also  felt  the  influence  of  the  peace, 
daily  activity,  and  small  events  of  the  country.  Only 
when  they  looked  toward  the  old  house  and  thought 
of  the  hope  which  had  led  them  hither,  did  something 
of  the  disquiet  come  over  them  which  children  feel 
when  expecting  a  Christmas-box  ;  and  the  quiet  work 
of  their  fancy  threw  a  brilliant  light  over  all  that  be- 
longed to  the  house,  even  down  to  the  barking  Nero, 
who,  as  early  as  the  second  day,  expressed  by  the  ve- 
hement wagging  of  his  tail,  his  wish  to  be  taken  into 
their  fellowship  at  table. 

The  Doctor  did  not  fail  to  remark  how  strongly  his 
friend  was  attracted  by  this  quiet  life,  and  with  what 
tact  he  adapted  himself  to  the  inhabitants  of  the  house. 
The  Proprietor,  before  he  rode  to  the  distant  part  of 
the  farm,  brought  him  some  agricultural  books,  and 
spoke  to  him  of  the  different  varieties  of  grain,  and  the 
Professor  answered  him  modestly,  as  became  a  young 
gentleman  in  top-boots,  and  immersed  himself  forth- 
with in  these  new  interests.  Also  between  Use  and 
the  Professor  there  was  an  evident  understanding, 
the  cause  of  which  occasioned  the  Doctor  some  dis- 
quiet. When  the  Professor  spoke  to  her,  it  was  with 
deep  respect,  both  in  voice  and  look,  and  Use  always 
turned  by  preference  to  him,  and  was  quietly  but  in- 
cessantly endeavoring  to  give  him  pleasure.  When  at 
table  he  picked  up  her  handkerchief,  he  handed  it  to 
her  with  a  respectful  bow  as  to  a  princess.  .  When  she 
handed  him  his  cup  he  looked  as  happy  as  if  he  had 
discovered  the  secret  meaning  of  some  difficult  passage 
in  an  author.  Then  in  the  evening,  when  he  sat  with 
the  father  in  the  garden  and  Use  came  behind  them 
from  the  house,  his  countenance  brightened  up,  though 
he  had  not  yet  seen  her.  When  she  distributed  to  the 


92  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

children  their  supper,  and  was  obliged  to  scold  little 
Franz  for  being  naughty,  the  Professor  suddenly 
looked  as  dismal  as  if  he  himself  were  a  boy  whom  the 
displeasure  of  his  sister  was  to  improve.  These  ob- 
servations set  the  Doctor  a-thinking. 

Furthermore,  when,  shortly  after  study-time  Hans 
proposed  to  the  Doctor  to  play  a  friendly  game  of 
blind-man's-buff,  Fritz  assumed,  as  a  matter  of  course, 
that  the  Professor  would  in  the  meantime  converse 
with  the  father  in  the  arbor,  and  he  never  dreamed  of 
asking  anything  so  extravagant  of  his  learned  friend 
as  to  join  in  the  game.  How  astonished  then  was  he 
when  Use,  having  folded  the  handkerchief,  approached 
the  Professor,  requested  him  to  be  blinded  first,  and 
he,  the  Professor,  looked  quite  happy  at  the  idea, 
offered  his  head  gently — like  a  lamb  to  the  sacrifice — 
to  be  covered,  and  allowed  himself  to  be  led  by 
Use  into  the  midst  of  the  circle  of  little  rompers. 
Noisily  did  the  swarm  circle  round  the  Professor ;  the 
impudent  children  pulled  him- by  the  flaps  of  his  coat, 
even  Use  contrived  to  lay  hold  of  a  button  and  draw 
him  gently  by  it.  This  put  him  in  a  state  of  excite- 
ment ;  he  felt  about  with  his  hands,  and  minded  no  at- 
tacks of  the  assaulting  children,  only  seeking  to  seize 
the  fair  offender  ;  and  when  he  did  not  succeed,  he 
kept  poking  about  with  his  sticks  and  groping  like  the 
blind  singer  Demodokus  to  catch  a  Phaeacian.  Now, 
at  last,  he  hit  exactly  upon  Use,  but  she  passed  the 
end  of  the  stick  to  her  sister,  and  Clara  whistled  on  it, 
but  he  exclaimed,  "  Fraulein  Use  !  "  She  was  delighted 
that  he  had  guessed  wrong,  and  he  looked  much 
puzzled. 

Other  games  followed,  in  all  of  which  the  Professor 
showed   such   dexterity  that  the  children  were   quite 


AMONG  HERDS  AND  SHEAVES.  93 

enchanted,  though  Franz  called  out  indignantly  that 
he  did  not  strike  Use  hard  enough  when  he  had  the 
knotted  handkerchief.  Use,  however,  took  the  hand- 
kerchief, and,  much  to  the  Scholar's  astonishment  and 
delight,  struck  him  heartily  over  the  shoulders. 

The  Doctor  joined  in  the  sports,  and  looked  with 
pleasure  at  the  movements  of  the  wild  maidens  in  the 
games ;  and  when  Use  stood  by  a  tree  and  laid  hold 
of  a  branch  with  her  hand  in  order  to  support  herself, 
her  glowing  face  wreathed  by  the  leaves  of  the  nut- 
tree,  she  looked  so  lovely  and  happy  that  the  Doctor 
was  also  enchanted. 

In  such  a  bacchanalian  mood  it  was  not  to  be  won- 
dered at  that  the  Professor  at  last  called  upon  Hans  to 
run  a  race  twice  around  the  square.  Amidst  the 
shouts  of  the  children  Hans  lost  the  race,  because  he 
had  as  he  sturdily  maintained  the  inner  side  of  the 
square,  but  the  others  scouted  at  any  such  excuse. 
As  the  runners  dashed  up  to  the  arbor,  Use  handed 
to  the  Professor  his  great  coat,  which  she  had  mean- 
while fetched  from  the  coat-rack  in  the  hall.  "It 
is  late,  you  must  not  take  cold  while  with  us."  It  was 
not  at  all  late,  but  he  put  on  the  coat  at  once,  button- 
ed it  up  from  top  to  bottom,  and,  with  a  look  of  satis- 
faction, shook  his  opponent  Hans  by  the  shoulder. 
Afterwards  they  all  sat  down  again  in  the  arbor,  in 
order  to  cool  themselves.  Here,  at  the  vociferous 
demands  of  the  little  ones,  a  thaler  was  passed  round 
while  a  song  was  sung,  and  the  more  observant  part 
of  the  family  loudly  declared  that  the  thaler  had  twice 
fallen  to  the  ground  between  Use  and  the  Professor, 
because  they  had  not  passed  it  firmly  enough  into 
each  other's  hands.  By  this  game  the  love  of  song 
was  awakened  among  the  young  people,  and  great  and 


94 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


small  sang  together  as  loud  as  they  could,  such  songs 
as  had  become  familiar  to  them — "On  the  Cool  Banks 
of  the  Saal,"  "Song  of  the  Cloak,"  and  the  catch  of 
"The  Bells  of  Capernaum."  After  that  Use  and 
Clara,  at  the  request  of  the  Doctor,  sang  a  folk-song, 
very  simple  and  unadorned,  and  perhaps  on  that  ac- 
count the  melancholy  style  touched  the  heart,  so  that 
after  the  song  all  were  quiet,  and  the  strangers  ap- 
peared much  moved  till  the  Proprietor  called  upon 
the  guests  to  contribute  their  share.  The  Professor, 
recovering  from  .his  emotion,  began  immediately  to 
sing,  in  a  rich-toned  bass,  "  In  a  deep,  damp  cellar  I 
sat,"  so  that  the  boys  in  their  enthusiasm  drank  up 
the  remains  of  their  glasses  of  milk  and  clinked  them 
on  the  table.  Again  the  company  broke  out  into  a 
chorus  ;  they  began  the  dear  old  song,  "What  is  the 
German  Fatherland,"  so  far  as  they  knew  the  verses, 
and  in  conclusion  they  attempted  "  Liitzow's  Wild 
Charge."  The  Doctor,  as  an  experienced  chorus- 
singer,  carried  the  melody  beautifully  through  the 
most  difficult  passages,  and  the  refrain  sounded  won- 
derfully in  the  calm  evening  air ;  the  tones  passed 
along  the  vine  arbor  and  wall,  and  over  the  top  of 
the  fruit  trees  up  to  the  thicket  of  the  nearest  hill, 
and  came  back  from  thence  as  an  echo. 

After  this  masterpiece  the  children's  party  broke 
up,  and  they  were  unwillingly  taken  by  Use  to  the 
house,  but  the  men  continued  in  conversation  a  little 
longer ;  they  had  laughed  and  sung  together,  and  be- 
came confidential.  The  Proprietor  spoke  of  his  earl}' 
days,  how  he  had  tried  his  luck  here  and  there,  and 
at  last  had  established  himself  firmly  in  this  place. 
The  struggle  of  daily  life  had  been  weary  and  toil- 
some ;  he  gladly  called  it  to  mind  at  this  hour, 


AMONG    HERDS    AND    SHEAVES.     .  95 

and  spoke  of  it  with  the  good  sense  of  an  energetic 
man. 

Thus  passed  the  second  day  on  the  estate — be- 
neath sun  and  stars,  amongst  the  sheaves  and  the  herds. 

The  following  morning  the  Professor  was  awaked 
by  the  loud  noise  of  the  feathered  farmyard  denizens; 
the  cock  flew  upon  a  stone  beneath  the  window  of  the 
visitor's  room,  and  sounded  his  morning  clarion  im- 
periously ;  the  hens  and  young  chickens  stood  in  a 
circle  round  him,  and  endeavored  to  practice  the  same 
art ;  in  between  the  sparrows  chirruped  loud,  then 
the  doves  flew  up  and  cooed  their  song,  at  last  there 
came  an  army  of  ducks  who  began  quacking  a  second 
chorus.  The  Professor  found  it  necessary  to  rise,  and 
the  Doctor  called  out  querulously  from  his  bed  :  "That 
comes  from  yesterday's  singing ;  now  we  hear  the 
effect  it  had  on  all  the  associated  farmyard  musi- 
cians." But  in  this  he  was  in  error,  the  little  flock  of 
the  farmyard  sang  only  from  official  zeal  to  announce 
that  a  stormy  day  might  be  expected. 

When  the  Professor  went  into  the  open  air,  the 
morning  light  still  glowed  like  fire  in  the  heavens, 
and  the  first  rays  of  light  shimmered  over  the  fields 
in  broken  and  trembling  waves.  The  ground  was 
dry,  no  dewdrops  hung  on  leaf  or  turf.  The  air  also 
was  sultry,  and  the  heads  of  the  flowers  drooped 
languidly  on  their  stalks.  Had  a  second  sun  appeared 
in  the  night  ?  But  the  clear  piping  of  the  yellow 
thrush  sounded  from  the  top  of  an  old  cherry  tree  in- 
cessantly. The  old  gardener,  Jacob,  looked  at  the 
tree,  shaking  his  head:  "I  thought  that  the  rogue 
had  gone  away,  he  has  made  too  much  havoc  among 
the  cherries,  and  now  he  is  giving  us  information  be- 
fore he  leaves  ;  something  is  brewing  to-day." 


96 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


Use,  as  she  came  from  the  dairy,  said:  "The 
cows  are  unquiet,  they  low  and  push  against  one 
another." 

The  sun  rose  red  out  of  heavy  vapor — the  laborers 
in  the  field  felt  a  weariness  in  their  limbs,  and  con- 
tinually stopped  in  their  work  to  dry  their  faces.  The 
shepherd  was  to-day  discontented  with  his  flock  ;  the 
wethers  were  bent  upon  gamboling  instead  of  eating, 
they  bucked  one  another,  and  the  young  ones  frisked 
and  danced  about  as  if  they  were  set  on  wires.  Dis- 
order and  willfulness  could  not  be  restrained.  The 
dog  circled  round  the  excited  animals  incessantly ;  but 
his  tail  hung  between  his  legs,  and  when  he  tugged 
at  a  sheep,  the  animal  long  felt  the  ungentle  bite. 

The  sun  rose  higher  in  the  cloudless  heavens — the 
day  became  hotter — a  light  vapor  rose  from  the  earth 
which  made  the  distance  indistinct ;  the  sparrows  flew 
restlessly  about  the  tops  of  the  trees,  the  swallows 
skimmed  along  the  ground  and  circled  round  the  men. 
The  friends  went  to  their  room  ;  here  also  they  felt 
the  exhausting  sultriness  ;  the  Doctor,  who  was  sketch- 
ing a  plan  of  the  house,  laid  down  his  pencil.  The 
Professor  was  reading  about  agriculture  and  the  rear- 
ing of  cattle,  but  he  often  looked  up  from  his  book  to 
the  sky,  opened  the  window  and  closed  it  again.  The 
dinner  was  quieter  than  usual,  the  host  looked  serious, 
and  his  staff  hardly  allowed  themselves  time  to  empty 
their  plates. 

"We  shall  have  trouble  to-day,"  said  the  master 
of  the  house  to  his  daughter,  on  rising.  "  I  will  ride 
to  the  outskirts ;  if  I  am  not  back  before  the  storm, 
look  after  the  house  and  farm." 

Again  men  and  horses  went  to  the  field,  but  to- 
day they  went  unwillingly.  The  heaf  became  un- 


AMONG    HERDS    AND    SHEAVES.  97 

bearable,  the  afternoon  sun  fell  scorchingly  on  their 
heads ;  rock  and  walls  glowed  with  heat ;  a  white 
cloud  curtained  the  heavens,  which  visibly  thickened 
and  massed  itself  together.  The  ploughboys  eagerly 
took  the  horses  to  the  stables,  the  laborers  hastened 
to  unload  the  sheaves,  and  drove  the  wagons  at  a 
quicker  pace  in  order  to  shelter  one  more  load  under 
a  roof  before  the  storm  arose. 

The  friends  stood  before  the  farm-gate  and  looked 
at  the  heavy  clouds  which  were  gathering  upon  the 
horizon.  The  yellow  light  of  the  sun  struggled  for  a 
short  time  against  the  dark  shadows  ;  finally  the  last 
glare  of  light  disappeared,  and  the  earth  lay  darkened 
and  mournful.  Use  approached  them  :  "The  time  is 
come ;  about  four  o'clock  the  storm  will  rise,  it  sel- 
dom comes  over  the  level  land  from  the  east,  but  when 
it  does  it  is  always  severe  with  us,  for  people  say  it  is 
because  it  cannot  break  over  the  hilltops  which  you 
see  from  the  garden ;  then  it  hangs  long  over  our 
fields,  and  they  say  the  thunder  here  is  more  violent 
than  elsewhere." 

The  first  burst  of  the  wind  howled  over  the  house. 
"I  must  go  through  the  farmyard  to  see  that  all  is 
right,"  exclaimed  Use,  as  she  wrapped  a  handkerchief 
quickly  round  her  head  and  hurried  on,  accompanied 
by  the  men,  through  the  storm  to  the  farm-building 
in  which  the  fire-engine  stood ;  she  looked  to  see 
whether  the  door  was  open  and  whether  there  was 
water  in  the  barrels  ;  then  she  hastened  forward  to  the 
stables  while  the  straw  whirled  round  her  ;  she  warned 
the  servants  once  more  with  a  cheerful  call,  rapidly 
spoke  a  few  words  to  the  officials  and  returned  to  the 
house.  She  looked  into  the  kitchen  and  opened  the 
door  of  the  children's  room  to  see  whether  all  of  her 


98  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

brothers  and  sisters  were  with  the  tutor.  Lastly,  she 
let  in  the  dog,  who  was  barking  piteously  at  the  gate 
of  the  farmyard,  and  then  returned  to  the  friends, 
who,  from  the  window  of  the  sitting-room,  were 
watching  the  fury  of  the  elements.  ''The  house  is 
secured,  as  far  as  it  is  possible  for  human  beings  ;  but 
we  place  our  trust  in  a  stronger  Protector,"  said  Use. 

The  storm  slowly  approached,  one  dark  mass  roll- 
ing on  after  another,  and  under  them,  like  a  monstrous 
curtain,  a  pale  veil  of  mist  rose  higher  and  higher; 
the  thunder  rolled  at  shorter  intervals,  and  grew  more 
wildly  ominous ;  the  storm  howled  round  the  house ; 
thick  clouds  of  dust  chased  angrily  about  the  walls  ; 
leaves  and  blades  of  straw  flew  about  in  wild  dance. 

"  The  lion  is  roaring,"  said  Use,  folding  her  hands. 
She  bent  her  head  for  some  moments,  then  looked 
silently  out  of  the  window.  "Father  is  at  the  out- 
lying farm  under  shelter,"  she  began  again,  anticipat- 
ing a  question  of  the  Professor. 

It  was,  indeed,  a  violent  storm  that  raged  about 
the  old  house.  Those  who  listened  for  the  first  time 
in  this  place,  on  the  open  height,  alongside  the  ridge 
of  hills,  from  which  the  rolling,  tumultuous  crash  of 
the  thunder  resounded,  felt  that  they  had  never  ex- 
perienced such  power  in  nature  before.  While  the 
thunder  roared,  the  room  suddenly  became  dark  as 
night,  and  ever  and  anon  the  dismal  twilight  was 
pierced  by  the  flash  of  fiery  serpents  that  swept  over 
the  farm. 

There  was  noise  in  the  children's  room  ;  the  crying 
of  the  little  ones  could  be  heard.  Use  went  to  the 
door  and  opened  it.  "Come  to  me,"  she  called  out. 
The  children  ran  in  terrified,  and  pressed  round  their 
sister ;  the  youngest  clung  to  her  dress.  Use  took  the 


AMONG    HERDS    AND    SHEAVES.  99 

little  child  and  placed  it  under  the  charge  of  the  Pro- 
fessor, who  was  standing  by  her  side.  "Be  quiet, 
and  say  your  prayer  softly,"  she  said;  "this  is  no 
time  for  weeping  and  complaining." 

Suddenly  came  a  light  so  blinding  that  it  caused 
them  to  close  their  eyes — and  a  sharp  concussion, 
ending  in  a  discordant  crash.  When  the  Professor 
opened  his  eyes,  by  the  light  of  another  flash  he  saw 
Use  standing  by  his  side,  her  head  turned  toward  him 
with  a  radiant  look.  He  exclaimed,  anxiously:  "That 
has  struck." 

"Not  in  the  farmyard,"  replied  the  maiden,  un- 
moved. 

Again  a  clap,  and  again  a  flash,  and  a  clap,  wilder, 
shorter,  sharper.  "It  is  just  above  us,"  said  Use, 
calmly,  pressing  the  head  of  her  little  brother  to  her 
as  if  to  protect  him. 

The  Professor  could  not  turn  his  eyes  from  the 
group  in  the  middle  of  the  room.  The  noble  figure  of 
the  woman  before  him,  erect,  motionless,  surrounded 
by  the  frightened  brothers  and  sisters,  the  countenance 
raised,  and  a  proud  smile  playing  about  the  mouth. 
And  she,  in  a  moment  of  uncontrollable  feeling,  had 
confided  to  his  care  one  of  the  lives  that  were  so 
dear  to  her ;  he  stood  in  the  hour  of  danger  near  her 
as  one  of  hers.  He  firmly  held  the  child,  which 
clasped  him  in  terror.  They  were  short  moments, 
these  ;  but  between  flash  and  thunder-clap  the  spark 
that  glowed  in  him  had  blazed  out  into  a  bright  flame. 
She  who  stood  near  him  in  the  lightning,  suffused 
with  the  blinding  light,  she  it  was  who  had  become  ne- 
cessary to  his  life. 

Still  longer  did  the  thunder  roar ;  the  heavy  rain 
beat  against  the  window ;  it  clattered  and  dashed 


100  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

round  the  house  ;  the  windows  trembled  under  the 
raging  outburst  of  the  storm. 

"  It  is  over,"  said  Use,  gently.  The  children  se- 
parated and  ran  to  the  window.  "  Up-stairs,  Hans  !  " 
cried  the  sister,  and  hastened  with  her  brother  out  of 
the  room  to  see  whether  the  water  had  made  its  way 
in  anywhere.  The  Professor  looked  thoughtfully 
toward  the  door  through  which  she  'had  disappeared ; 
but  the  Doctor,  who  meanwhile  had  been  seated 
quietly  on  a  chair,  with  his  hands  on  his  knees,  shak- 
ing his  head,  began:  "These  freaks  of  nature  are 
against  us.  Since  lightning  conductors  have  come  into 
discredit,  one  has  not  the  poor  comfort  of  thinking  that 
the  old  manuscript  has  even  their  protection  against 
the  attacks  of  the  weather.  This  is  a  bad  habitation 
for  our  poor  old  manuscript,  and  it  is  verily  a  Christian 
duty  to  rescue  the  book  as  quickly  as  possible  from 
such  a  dangerous  thunder-trap.  Shall  we  be  able  in 
the  future,  with  any  tranquillity  of  mind,  to  look  upon 
a  cloud  in  the  heavens?  It  will  remind  us  of  the  dis- 
asters that  may  befall  this  place." 

"The  house  has  held  out  hitherto,"  answered  the 
Professor,  laughing.  "Let  us  leave  the  manuscript 
meanwhile  to  the  good  Power  in  whom  the  people 
here  so  firmly  trust.  The  sun's  rays  are  already  break- 
ing through  the  mist." 

Half  an  hour  later  it  was  all  over ;  the  dark  clouds 
still  hovered  above  the  hills,  and  from  the  distance  re- 
sounded the  harmless  thunder.  Life  began  to  stir 
again  in  the  empty  farmyard.  First,  the  ducks  came 
forth  with  joyous  haste  from  their  hiding-place,  cleaned 
their  feathers,  examined  the  puddles  of  water,  and 
quacked  along  the  ruts  made  by  the  wheels  ;  then  came 
the  cock  with  his  hens,  cautiously  treading,  and  pick- 


AMONG    HERDS    AND    SHEAVES.  IOI 

ing  the  soaked  seeds  ;  the  doves  flew  on  to  the  pro- 
jections of  the  window,  wished  each  other  good  for- 
tune with  friendly  nods  and  spread  their  feathers  in  the 
fresh  sunlight.  Nero  bounded  boldly  out  of  the  house, 
trotted  through  the  farmyard,  and  barked  in  the  air 
by  way  of  challenge  to  frighten  away  the  hostile  clouds. 
The  maids  and  laborers  again  stepped  actively  about 
the  place,  breathing  the  refreshing  balsam  of  the  moist 
air.  The  Inspector  came  and  reported  that  the  light- 
ning had  struck  twice  on  the  neighboring  hill.  The 
Proprietor,  thoroughly  wet  through,  rode  rapidly  in, 
anxious  to  see  whether  his  house  and  farm-buildings 
were  undamaged.  He  sprang  gaily  from  his  horse, 
and  exclaimed  :  "The  rain  penetrated  everything  out 
there.  But,  God  be  praised,  it  has  passed  over.  We 
have  not  had  such  a  storm  here  for  years."  The  people 
listened  also  for  awhile  as  the  head  ploughman  related 
that  he  had  seen  a  pillar  of  water,  which  hung  like  a 
great  sack  from  heaven  to  earth,  and  that  it  had  hailed 
violently  on  the  other  side  of  the  border.  Then  they 
entered  the  stable  with  great  equanimity,  and  enjoyed 
the  hour  of  rest  that  the  bad  weather  had  brought 
them.  While  the  Proprietor  was  talking  to  his  staff, 
the  Doctor  prepared  to  descend,  with  the  boys  and 
the  tutor,  into  the  valley,  there  to  see  the  overflow- 
ing brook. 

But  the  Professor  and  Use  remained  in  the  orchard, 
and  the  former  was  astonished  at  the  number  of  snails 
that  now  came  out  everywhere,  trailing  slowly  over 
the  path  ;  and  he  took  one  after  the  other  and  placed 
them  carefully  out  of  the  way,  but  the  senseless  crea- 
tures always  returned  again  to  the  firm  gravel,  expect- 
ing that  the  foot-passengers  were  to  get  out  of  their  way. 
They  both  examined  the  fruit  trees  to  see  how  they 


A 


102 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


had  borne  the  storm.  They  were  much  broken,  and 
their  branches  bent  down.  Much  unripe  fruit  lay  scat- 
tered on  the  grass.  The  Professor  cautiously  shook 
the  branches,  bending  under  the  weight  of  the  rain, 
in  order  to  free  them  from  their  burden ;  he  fetched 
some  poles  to  support  an  old  apple  tree  which  was  in 
danger  of  breaking  under  the  weight,  and  both  laughed 
heartily  when,  in  the  course  of  his  work,  the  water 
from  the  leaves  ran  in  small  streams  down  his  hair  and 
coat. 

Use  clasped  her  hands  together,  lamenting  over  the 
fall  of  so  much  fruit ;  but  there  was  still  much  on  the 
trees,  and  they  might  yet  hope  for  a  rich  harvest.  The 
Professor  sympathized  with  her  and  advised  her  to  dry 
the  fallen  fruit,  and  Use  laughed  again  at  this  because 
most  of  it  was  unripe.  The  Professor  confided  to  her 
that  he  as  a  boy  had  helped  his  dear  mother  when  she 
used  to  arrange  the  fruit  on  the  drying-board ;  for  his 
parents  had  owned  a  large  garden  in  the  town  in  which 
his  father  was  an  official.  Use  listened  with  eager  in- 
terest when  he  related  further  how  he  had  lost  his  fa- 
ther as  a  boy,  and  how  lovingly  and  wisely  his  mother 
had  cared  for  him,  how  confidential  his  relations  with 
her  had  been,  and  that  .her  loss  had  been  the  greatest 
sorrow  of  his  life.  Then  they  walked  up  and  down 
along  the  gravel  walk,  and  in  both  of  them  an  echo  of 
the  sorrow  of  past  days  intermingled  with  the  cheer- 
ful mood  of  the  present ;  just  as  in  nature  the  move- 
ment of  a  violent  storm  leaves  after  it  a  gentle  trem- 
bling, and  the  pure  light  of  day  sparkles  on  bower 
and  blade  like  countless  glittering  precious  stones. 

Use  opened  a  gate  which  led  from  the  lower  part 
of  the  orchard  into  the  open  country,  and  standing 
still,  said,  hesitatingly  :  "I  propose  a  walk  into  the 


AMONG    HERDS    AND    SHEAVES. 


I03 


village  to  see  how  our  Pastor  has  stood  the  storm  ; 
would  you  like  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  our  dear 
friend  ?" 

"  I  shall  be  delighted  to  do  so,"  answered  the  Pro- 
fessor. 

They  walked  along  a  damp  footpath  that  wound 
its  way  through  the  length  of  the  valley  by  the  side  of 
the  churchyard.  Near  it  lay  a  little  village  of  closely- 
packed  houses,  in  which  dwelt  most  of  the  laborers  of 
the  estate.  The  first  building  below  the  church  was 
the  Pastor's  house,  with  a  wooden  roof  and  small  win- 
dows, differing  little  from  the  dwellings  of  the  country 
people.  Use  opened  the  door,  and  an  old  maid- serv- 
ant hastened  toward  her  with  a  familiar  greeting. 

"  Ah,  Miss,"  she  exclaimed,  "we  had  bad  weather 
to-day.  I  thought  the  day  of  judgment  had  surely 
come.  Master  stood  constantly  at  the  chamber  win- 
dow looking  up  to  the  manor  and  raising  his  hands 
in  prayer  for  you.  He  is  at  present  in  the  garden." 

The  guests  passed  out  through  the  rear  door  into 
a  small  space  between  the  gables  and  barns  of  the 
neighboring  farmyards.  A  few  low  fruit  trees  stood 
along  the  edges  of  the  flower-beds.  The  old  gentle- 
man, in  a  dark  dressing-gown,  stood  by  an  espalier, 
working  industriously. 

"My  dear  child,"  he  cried,  looking  up,  and  a  smile 
of  pleasure  lighted  up  the  kind  face  under  his  white 
hair,  "  I  knew  that  you  would  come  to-day." 

He  bowed  to  the  stranger,  and,  after  a  few  words 
of  greeting,  turned  again  to  Use. 

"  Only  think  what  a  misfortune — the  storm  has 
broken  our  peach  tree,  the  espalier  is  torn  up  and  the 
branches  are  shattered  ;  the  damage  is  irreparable." 


104  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

He  bent  over  the  disabled  tree,  which  he  had  just 
bound  up  with  a  bandage  of  tree- gum  and  matting. 

"  It  is  the  only  peach  tree  here,"  he  said,  lament- 
ingly,  to  the  Professor  ;  "they  have  none  on  the  whole 
estate,  nor  any  in  the  town.  But  I  must  not  worry 
you  with  my  little  troubles,"  he  continued,  more  cheer- 
fully;  "  I  pray  you  come  with  me  into  the  house." 

Use  entered  the  side  door  of  an  extension,  near  the 
house  proper.  "  How  is  Flavia  ?  "  she  inquired  of  the 
maid,  who  stood  at  the  threshold,  anticipating  the  visit. 

"Doing  very  well,"  answered  Susannah,  "and  the 
little  one  also." 

"  It  is  the  dun  cow  and  her  young  calf,"  explained 
the  Pastor  to  the  Professor,  as  Use  returned  into  the 
narrow  courtyard  with  the  maid.  "I  do  not  like 
people  to  call  animals  by  Christian  names,  so  I  have 
recourse  to  our  Latin  vocabulary." 

Use  returned.  "It  is  time  that  the  calf  should  be 
taken  away  ;  it  is  a  wasteful  feeder." 

"That  is  what  I  said  too,"  interposed  Susannah,. 
"  but  his  Reverence  the  Pastor  will  not  consent." 

"You  are  right,  my  dear  child,"  answered  the 
Pastor;  "following  the  demands  of  worldly  wisdom  it 
would  be  best  to  deliver  the  little  calf  to  the  butcher. 
But  the  calf  sees  the  thing  in  quite  another  light,  and 
it  is  a  merry  little  creature." 

"But  when  one  asks  it  why,  one  receives  no  an- 
swer," said  Use,  "and  therefore,  it  must  be  pleased 
with  what  we  choose.  Your  Reverence  must  allow  me 
to  settle  this  with  Susannah,  behind  your  back  ;  mean- 
while you  shall  have  milk  from  our  house." 

The  Pastor  conducted  them  into  his  room  ;  it  was 
very  small,  whitewashed,  and  scantily  furnished.  There 
was  an  old  writing-table,  a  black  painted  book-shelf 


AMONG    HERDS    AND    SHEAVES.  105 

with  a  small  number  of  old  books,  a  sofa  and  some 
chairs  covered  with  colored  chintz.  "This  has  been 
my  Tusculum  for  forty  years,"  said  the  Pastor,  with 
satisfaction,  to  the  Professor,  who  looked  with  surprise 
at  the  scanty  furniture.  "  It  would  have  been  larger 
if  the  addition  had  been  made  ;  there  were  fine  plans 
arranged,  and  my  worthy  neighbor  took  much  pains 
about  it,  but  since  my  wife  was  carried  out  there" — he 
looked  toward  the  churchyard  on  the  height — "I  will 
not  hear  of  it  any  more." 

The  Professor  looked  out  of  the  window.  Forty 
years  in  this  narrow  building,  in  the  little  valley  be- 
tween the  churchyard,  the  huts,  and  the  wood  !  He 
felt  oppressed  in  spirit.  "The  community  appears 
to  be  poor ;  there  is  but  little  space  for  cultivation  be- 
tween the  hills.  But  how  is  it  pray,  in  winter  ?  " 

"Well,  even  then  I  am  still  able  to  get  about," 
answered  the  clergyman  ;  "  I  visit  my  old  friends  then, 
and  am  only  troubled  sometimes  by  the  snow.  Once 
we  were  quite  snowed  up,  and  had  to  be  dug  out." 
He  laughed  pleasantly  at  the  recollection.  "It  is 
never  lonely  when  one  has  lived  many  years  in  a  place. 
One  has  known  the  grandfathers,  trained  the  fathers, 
taught  the  children,  and  here  and  there  a  grandchild 
even,  and  one  sees  how  men  rise  from  the  earth  and 
sink  down  into  it  again  like  the  leaves  that  fall  from 
a  tree.  One  observes,  that  all  is  vanity  and  a  short 
preparation  for  eternity.  Dear  child,"  he  said  to 
Use,  who  now  entered,  ' '  pray  be  seated  with  us  ;  I  have 
not  seen  your  dear  face  for  three  days,  and  I  would  not 
go  up  because  I  heard  you  had  visitors.  I  have  some- 
thing here  for  you,"  taking  a  paper  out  of  his  desk  ; 
"  it  is  poetry." 

"You  see  the  song  of  the  Muses  does  not  fail  us," 


1 06 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


he  continued,  speaking  to  the  Professor.  "It  is,  to 
be  sure,  humble,  and  bucolic  in  style.  But  believe 
me,  as  one  who  knows  his  village,  there  are  few  new 
things  under  the  sun ;  there  is  everything  here  in  a 
small  way  that  there  is  on  a  large  scale  in  the  rest  of 
the  world ;  the  blacksmith  is  a  zealous  politician,  and 
the  justice  would  gladly  be  a  Dionysius  of  Syracuse. 
We  have  also  the  rich  man  of  Scripture,  and  truly 
many  a  Lazarus — to  which  number  the  poet  whose 
verses  I  here  hold  belongs  ;  and  our  plasterer  is  a  mu- 
sician in  winter — he  does  not  play  badly  on  the  zither. 
But  they  are  all  too  ambitious  and  not  in  harmony. 
Sometimes  it  is  difficult  to  preserve  good  fellowship 
among  them." 

"  Our  poet  wishes  to  have  his  green  wall  again,  as 
I  interpret  it,"  said  Use,  looking  up  from  the  paper. 

"For  seven  years  he  has  been  lying  in  his  room 
half  palsied  with  severe  and  incurable  ills,"  explained 
the  Pastor  to  his  guest ;  "  and  he  looks  through  a  little 
hole  of  a  window  into  •  the  world  at  the  clay- wall  op- 
posite and  the  men  who  can  be  seen  passing ;  the 
wall  belongs  to  a  neighbor,  and  my  dear  child  trained 
a  wild  vine  over  it.  But  this  year  our  neighbor — our 
rich  man — has  built  upon  it  and  torn  away  the  foliage. 
This  vexes  the  invalid,  and  it  is  difficult  to  help  him, 
for  now  is  not  the  time  to  plant  a  fresh  one." 

"But  something  must  be  thought  of,"  interposed 
Use.  "I  will  speak  to  him  about  it ;  excuse  me,  I 
will  not  be  long." 

She  left  the  room.  "If  you  wish,"  said  the  Pas- 
tor, addressing  the  guest  mysteriously,  "I  will  show 
you  this  wall;  for  I  have  thought  much  about  the  mat- 
ter, but  cannot  devise  anything."  The  Professor  si- 
lently acquiesced.  They  walked  along  the  village  lane, 


AMONG    HERDS    AND    SHEAVES.  107 

and  at  the  corner  the  Pastor  took  the  arm  of  his  com- 
panion. "Here  lies  the  invalid,"  be  began,  in  a  low 
tone.  "His  weakness  makes  him  rather  deaf,  but  still 
we  must  tread  gently,  that  he  may  not  observe  it,  for 
that  disturbs  him." 

The  Professor  saw  a  small  sash-window  open  and 
Use  standing  before  it,  her  back  turned  to  them. 
While  the  Pastor  was  showing  him  the  plastered  wall 
and  the  height  that  was  necessary  for  the  trailing  plant, 
he  listened  to  the  conversation  at  the  window.  Use 
spoke  loudly  and  was  answered  from  the  bed  by  a  shrill 
voice.  He  discovered  with  astonishment  that  they 
were  not  speaking  of  the  vines. 

"And  the  gentleman  is  of  a  good  disposition?" 
asked  the  voice. 

"He  is  a  learned  and  good  man,"  answered   Use. 

"And  how  long  does  he  remain  with  you  ?  " 

"I  know  not,"  was  Use's  hesitating  reply. 

"  He  should  remain  altogether  with  you,  for  you 
like  him,"  said  the  invalid. 

"  Ah,  that  we  dare  not  hope,  dear  Benz.  But  this 
conversation  will  not  help  to  find  you  a  good  pros- 
pect," continued  Use.  "I  will  speak  to  your  neigh- 
bor ;  but  nothing  will  grow  between  to-day  and  to-mor- 
row. I  have  thought  that  the  gardener  might  nail  a 
shelf  under  the  window,  and  we  shall  place  some  plants 
from  my  room  upon  it." 

'•That  will  obstruct  the  view,"  answered  the  voice, 
discontentedly.  "  I  could  no  longer  see  the  swallows 
as  they  fly  past,  and  little  of  the  heads  of  the  people 
who  go  by." 

"  That  is  true,"  replied  Use  ;  "  but  we  will  put  the 
board  so  low  that  only  the  flowers  shall  peep  through 
the  window." 


1 08  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"  What  kind  of  flowers  are  they  ?"  asked  Benz. 

"A  myrtle,"  said  Use. 

"That  does  not  blossom,"  answered  Benz,  surlily. 

"But  there  are  two  roses  blowing  and  a  plant  of 
heliotrope." 

"I  do  not  know  what  that  is,'1  interposed  the 
invalid. 

"It  smells  very  sweet,"  said  Use. 

"Then  let  it  come,"  assented  Benz.  "But  I  must 
also  have  some  sweet  basil." 

"We  will  see  whether  it  can  be  had, "  answered 
Use ;  "and  the  gardener  shall  also  train  some  ivy  round 
the  window." 

"  That  will  be  too  dark  for  me,"  retorted  the  dis- 
satisfied Benz. 

"  Never  mind,"  said  Use,  decidedly  ;  "  we  will  try, 
and  if  it  does  not  suit  you,  it  can  be  altered." 

To  this  the  invalid  agreed. 

"  But  the  gardener  must  not  make  me  wait,"  he 
exclaimed  ;  "  I  should  like  to  have  it  to-morrow." 

"Very  well,"  said  Use  ;  "ear4y  in  the  morning." 

"  And  you  will  show  my  verses  to  no  one,  not  even 
to  the  strange  gentleman  ;  they  are  only  for  you." 

"Nobody  shall  see  them,"  said  Use.  "Call  your 
daughter  Anna,  dear  Benz." 

As  she  prepared  to  depart,  the  Pastor  gently  drew 
his  guest  back. 

"When  the  invalid  has  had  such  a  conversation," 
he  explained,  "he  is  contented  for  the  whole  of  the 
next  day,  and  to-morrow  he  will  again  compose  some 
verses.  Sometimes — between  you  and  me — he  writes 
a  good  deal  of  nonsense,  but  it  is  well  meant,  and  for 
him  it  is  the  best  pastime.  The  people  in  the  village 
avoid  passing  under  his  window  as  much  as  possible. 


AMONG    HERDS    AND    SHEAVES.  109 

This  is  the  hardest  work  in  my  office  ;  for  the  people 
are  obstinate  in  the  superstition  that  illness  and 
suffering  originate  from  evil  spirits,  that  they  are  in- 
flicted from  hatred,  or  as  punishment  for  past  wrong  ; 
and  though  I  preach  to  them  incessantly  that  all  is 
only  a  trial  for  the  other  world,  this  teaching  is  too 
high  for  them,  only  the  infirm  believe  it ;  but  those 
who  are  hale  and  hearty  stubbornly  struggle  against 
the  truth  and  salvation." 

The  learned  man  turned  his  eyes  up  to  the  little 
window  from  which  the  invalid  looked  upon  the  plas- 
tered wall,  and  then  again  on  the  clerical  gentleman 
who  for  forty  years  had  preached  the  Holy  Gospel  in 
the  valley.  His  heart  was  heavy  and  his  eyes  passed 
from  the  twilight  of  the  deep  vale  to  the  hill-top,  which 
still  shone  in  the  glad  light  of  the  evening  sun.  Then 
she  returned  to  him,  she  who  had  descended  to  watch 
over  the  helpless  and  the  poor  ;  and  when  he  ascended 
the  height  with  her,  it  appeared  to  him  as  if  they  both 
emerged  from  gloomy  earthly  trouble  into  a  lighter 
air ;  but  the  youthful  figure  and  the  beautiful,  calm 
countenance  near  him,  shining  in  the  lingering  evening 
light  so  wondrously,  seemed  to  resemble  one  of  those 
messengers  whom  Jehovah  sent  to  the  tent  of  his  faith- 
ful servant.  He  rejoiced  when  she  laughed  at  the 
joyous  bounding  of  the  dog,  who  came  barking  toward 
them. 

Thus  passed  another  day,  lighted  up  by  the  sun, 
and  overshadowed  by  the  clouds,  amidst  small  events 
of  daily  life  and  quiet  existence.  When  recorded  by 
the  pen  it  seems  insignificant,  but  when  a  man  lives 
it,  it  sends  his  blood  coursing  energetically  through 
his  veins. 


rv 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


CHAPTER  VI. 
A  LEARNED  LADY  FROM  THE  COUNTRY. 

It  was  Sunday,  and  the  estate  wore  its  festive  gar- 
ment. The  barns  in  the  farmyard  were  closed,  the  farm 
servants  and  maids  walked  about  in  their  best  attire, 
not  like  busy  laborers,  but  with  the  comfortable  leisure 
which  is  the  poetry  of  a  toilsome  life  to  the  German 
peasant.  The  bells  from  the  church  tower  called  to 
service  ;  Use,  with  her  hymn-book  in  her  hand,  went 
with  her  sister  slowly  down  the  hill,  the  maids  and 
men  followed  in  small  groups.  The  Proprietor  passed 
the  day  in  his  study,  in  order  to  make  up  the  accounts 
of  the  past  week  ;  but  first  he  knocked  at  the  door  of 
his  friends'  room,  and  paid  them  a  short  morning  visit. 

"We  shall  have  guests  to-day,  the  Crown  Inspec- 
tor Rollmaus  and  his  wife;  he  is  an  excellent  farmer; 
but  his  wife  is  irredeemably  bent  upon  culture, — a  par- 
agon of  learning.  You  must  take  care,  she  will  press 
you  hard." 

As  the  clock  struck  twelve,  a  carriage  drawn  by  two 
well-fed  brown  horses  stopped  at  the  door  ;  the  chil- 
dren hastened  to  the  window. 

"The  Crown  Inspector's  wife  is  coming!"  ex- 
claimed the  youngest,  excitedly. 

A  stout  man  in  a  dark  green  coat  got  out  of  the 
carriage,  followed  by  a  little  lady  in  black  silk,  with 
a  sunshade  and  a  large  bandbox.  The  Proprietor  and 
Use  met  them  at  the  door  of  the  house  ,  the  host  laugh- 


A  LEARNED  LADY  FROM  THE  COUNTRY.      Ill 

ingly  called  out  a  welcome,  and  conducted  the  gentle- 
man to  the  sitting-room.  The  guest  had  black  hair 
and  a  round  face,  which  by  exposure  to  the  sun  and 
air  had  acquired  a  permanent  tint  of  reddish  brown. 

He  had  piercing  eyes,  red  nose  and  red  lips.  Learn- 
ing the  names  of  the  two  strangers  he  made  a  slight 
obeisance,  but  looked  displeased  at  their  appearing  in 
pretentious  black  coats ;  and  as  he  had*  a  vague  but 
strong  aversion  to  useless  authors,  needy  scholars,  and 
non-producers  of  all  sorts  who  visited  the  country  to 
write  books,  or  because  they  had  no  permanent  re- 
sidence of  their  own,  he  assumed  toward  both  these 
gentlemen  a  sulky  and  suspicious  demeanor.  After  a 
while  the  lady-made  her  appearance.  She  had  in  the 
mean  time,  with  Use's  help  put  on  her  best  cap,  which 
had  been  taken  out  of  the  bandbox  ;  a  work  of  art, 
upon  which  were  set  two  dark  red  roses.  She  entered 
the  room,  rustling,  curtsying,  and  laughing,  polished 
from  head  to  foot.  She  passed  rapidly  from  one  to  an- 
other, kissed  the  girls,  declared  to  the  boys  that  they 
had  grown  much  during  the  last  week,  and  at  last 
stopped,  full  of  expectation,  before  the  two  strangers. 
The  host  presented  them,  and  did  not  fail  to  add : 
"Two  gentlemen  from  the  University." 

The  little  lady  pricked  up  her  ears,  and  her  gray 
eyes  sparkled. 

"  From  the  University  !"  she  exclaimed  ;  "  what  a 
surprise.  These  gentlemen  are  rare  guests  in  our  coun- 
try. There  is  indeed  little  inducement  to  learned 
gentlemen  to  come  among  us,  for  materialism  reigns 
supreme  here,  and  the  circulating  library  at  Rossau 
is  certainly  not  in  good  hands  ;  actually  they  never  get 
anything  new.  May  I  be  allowed  to  ask  what  are  the 


112  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

studies  of  the  gentlemen,  whether  science  generally 
or  some  particular  specialty?" 

"  My  friend's  studies  are  more  of  a  general  char- 
acter. I  have  a  specialty,  and  in  addition  to  it,  I 
teach  the  classics,"  replied  the  Professor  ;  "this  gen- 
tleman is  also  engaged  in  Indian  research." 

"Pray  be  seated  on  the  sofa  ?"  interposed  Use. 
Mrs.  Rollmaus  followed  her  reluctantly. 

"  Indian  ! "  she  exclaimed,  seating  herself  and  ar- 
ranging her  dress.  "  That  is  a  strange  language. 
They  wear  tufts  of  feathers  and  their  dress  is  scanty, 
and  their  trousers,  if  I  may  be  pardoned  the  reference, 
hang  down  as  is  the  case  with  so  many  pigeons,  which 
also  have  long  feathers  to  their  legs.  One  sees  pictures 
of  them  sometimes ;  in  my  Karl's  picture-book  of 
last  Christmas  there  are  a  great  many  pictures  of  these 
wild  men.  They  have  barbarous  customs,  dear  Use." 

"  But  why  has  not  Karl  come  with  you  ?  "  inquired 
Use,  in  an  effort  to  rescue  the  gentlemen  from  the  dis- 
course. 

"It  was  because  we  shall  have  to  return  in  the 
dark.  Our  carriage  has  only  two  seats,  and  there  would 
have  been  no  room  to  pack  in  a  third  with  Rollmaus, 
so  Karl  would  have  had  to  sit  by  the  coachman,  and 
the  poor  child  would  be  so  sleepy  at  night  that  1  should 
have  been  afraid  of  his  falling  off.  And  then  there  are 
his  lessons  for  to-morrow — for  only  think,  I  have  per- 
suaded Rollmaus  to  take  a  tutor  for  our  children,  as 
your  dear  father  has  done." 

When  the  lady  intimated  the  prospect  of  a  return 
home  after  dark,  the  Doctor  looked  compassionately 
at  his  friend  ;  but  the  Professor  was  listening  so  atten- 
tively to  the  conversation  that  he  did  not  observe  this 
expression  of  commiseration.  Use  continued  to  ask 


A  LEARNED  LADY  FROM  THE  COUNTRY.      113 

questions  and  Mrs.  Rollmaus  always  answered,  al- 
though sometimes  she  cast  a  longing  look  at  the  Doc- 
tor, whose  connection  with  the  Indians  in  Karl's  pic- 
ture book  appeared  to  her  very  instructive.  Mean- 
while, the  two  country  gentlemen  had  become  engaged 
in  conversation  with  regard  to  the  merits  of  a  horse 
in  the  neighborhood,  which  had  been  recommended  for 
general  purposes,  so  that  the  Doctor  at  last  turned  to 
the  children  and  began  to  chat  with  Clara  and  Louise. 

After  half  an  hour  of  quiet  preparation,  the  maid- 
servant appeared  at  the  door  of  the  dining  room. 
The  Proprietor  gallantly  offered  his  arm  to  Mrs.  Roll- 
maus and  escorted  her  to  the  table.  The  Professor 
conducted  Use,  and  the  Doctor  attempted  to  take  her 
sister  Clara,  but  she  blushed  and  resisted  till  he  gave 
his  other  arm  to  Louise  and  Rickchen,  whereupon 
Franz  laid  hold  of  his  coat-tails  and  on  the  way  whis- 
pered to  him  :  "  We  have  turkey  to  day. "  But  Mr. 
Rollmaus,  who  regarded  attendance  upon  ladies  a 
wearisome  custom  brought  up  the  rear  alone,  greeting, 
as  he  passed,  the  farm  officials,  who  were  standing  in 
the  dining- room,  with  the  query  : 

"  Is  all  the  corn  in  yet  ?" 

To  which  the  Inspector  replied  with  emphasis  that 
it  was. 

Again  all  took  their  places  according  to  rank  and 
dignity.  Mrs.  Rollmaus  had  the  place  of  honor,  and 
between  her  and  Use  sat  the  Professor. 

It  was  not  a  quiet  meal  for  the  latter.  Use  was 
more  silent  than  usual,  but  his  new  neighbor  plied 
hirn  with  learned  questions.  She  obliged  him  to  tell 
her  the  regulations  of  the  University,  and  in  what  man- 
ner the  students  were  instructed.  And  the  Professor 
informed  her  fully,  and  did  so  good-humoredly.  But 


114  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

he  did  not  long  'succeed  in  protecting  either  himself 
or  others  against  the  feeling  of  annoyance  which  the 
conversation  of  Mrs.  Rollmaus  always  occasioned. 

"  So  you  are  a  philosopher?"  she  said.  "That  is 
indeed  interesting.  I  also  have  attempted  philoso- 
phy ;  but  the  style  is  so  incomprehensible.  Pray, 
what  is  the  purpose  of  philosophy  ?" 

"It  endeavors,"  was  the  patient  answer  of  the 
Professor  to  this  perplexing  question,  "to  instruct 
men  in  the  life  of  their  mind  and  spirit,  and  thus  to 
strengthen  and  improve  them." 

"  The  life  of  the  spirit !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Rollmaus, 
excitedly  ;  "but  do  you  too  believe  that  spirits  can  ap- 
pear to  men  after  death  ?" 

"Why,  do  you  know  any  instance  where  that  has 
happened  ?"  asked  the  Professor.  "  It  would  be  in- 
teresting to  all  to  hear  the  exact  details.  Has  any- 
thing of  the  kind  occurred  hereabouts  ?" 

"  So  far  as  ghosts  and  spirits  are  concerned,  No," 
replied  Mrs.  Rollmaus,  looking  doubtfully  at  the  Pro- 
prietor ;  "but  of  second  sight,  and  what  is  called  sym- 
pathy a  great  deal.  Only  think,  we  once  had  a  ser- 
vant ;  she  was  not  obliged  to  live  out,  but  her  parents 
wished  to  send  her  away  from  home  for  a  time  ;  for 
there  was  in  the  village  a  poor  lad  who  was  a  great 
fiddler  and  who  strolled  round  her  house  morning  and 
evening,  and  when  the  girl  could  come,  they  sat  to- 
gether behind  a  bush — he  playing  on  the  fiddle  and 
she  listening.  And  she  could  not  part  from  him.  She 
was  a  nice  girl,  and  adapted  herself  to  everything  in 
our  house,  only  she  was  always  melancholy.  The  fid- 
dler was  impressed  as  a  hussar,  for  which  he  was  fitted 
because  he  was  very  courageous.  After  a  year  the  cook 
came  to  me  and  said  :  '  Mrs.  Rollmaus,  I  cannot 


A  LEARNED  LADY  FROM  THE  COUNTRY.      115 

stand  it  any  longer,  Hetty  walks  in  her  sleep.  She 
gets  out  of  bed  and  sings  the  song  about  a  soldier 
whom  a  captain  caused  to  be  shot,  because  he  was 
ordered  to  do  so,  and  then  she  groans  so  that  it  would 
move  a  stone,  and  in  the  morning  she  knows  nothing 
about  her  singing,  but  always  continues  to  weep.' 
And  this  was  the  truth.  I  called  her,  and  asked  her 
seriously  ;  '  What  is  the  matter  with  you  ?  I  cannot 
bear  this  mysterious  conduct,  you  are  a  riddle  to  me.' 
Whereupon  she  lamented  much,  and  begged  me  not 
to  think  ill  of  her,  as  she  was  an  honorable  girl ;  but 
she  had  seen  an  apparition.  And  then  she  told  me 
the  whole  story.  Her  Gottlob  had  appeared  at  the 
door  of  her  room  in  the  night,  quite  haggard  and  sor- 
rowful, and  had  said  :  '  Hetty,  it  is  all  over  with  me; 
to-morrow  it  is  my  turn.'  I  tried  to  persuade  the  girl 
out  of  it,  but  her  fears  infected  me.  I  wrote  to  an 
officer  whose  acquaintance  my  husband  had  made  at 
the  hunt,  and  asked  whether  it  was  nonsense,  or 
whether  it  was  due  to  the  so-called  second-sight.  And 
he  wrote  back  to  me  very  much  astonished.  It  was 
a  true  case  of  second-sight,  for  on  the  same  day  the 
fiddler  had  fallen  from  his  horse  and  broken  his  leg, 
and  then  lay  in  the  hospital  at  the  point  of  death. 
Now,  I  pray  you,  was  not  that  a  real  natural  phenom- 
enon ?" 

"And  what  became  of  the  poor  people?"  asked 
the  Professor. 

"  O,  as  for  them,"  answered  Mrs.  Rollmaus,  "it 
all  came  right  ;  for  a  comrade  of  the  invalid,  who  had 
a  sick  mother,  was  from  our  village.  I  wrote  to  him 
requesting  him  to  send  me  a  letter  every  third  day  to 
report  how  the  invalid  was  getting  on,  and  added  that 
I  would  repay  him  by  sending  his  mother  bacon  and 


116 


THE    LOST   MANUSCRIPT. 


flour.  He  wrote  regularly  ;  and  the  affair  lasted  many 
weeks.  At  last  the  fiddler  was  cured  and  came  back  ; 
and  both  were  white  as  a  sheet  when  they  met,  and  em- 
braced each  other  before  my  eyes  without  hesitation  ; 
whereupon  I  spoke  to  the  parents  of  the  girl,  which 
was  of  little  avail.  Then  I  spoke  to  my  husband,  to 
whom  our  village  inn  belongs,  and  who  was  then  look- 
ing out  for  a  good  tenant.  And  that  brought  the  his- 
tory to  a  close,  or,  as  the  saying  goes,  to  the  commence- 
ment du pain.  For  Mr.  Rollmaus  is  not  a  lover  of  riddles 
and  thinks  them  instruments  of  frivolity.  But  the 
people  behave  in  an  orderly  way.  I  was  the  sponsor 
of  their  first  child  and  Rollmaus  of  the  second.  But 
there  have  been  no  more  apparitions." 

"That  was  indeed  good  and  kind  of  you,"  ex- 
claimed the  Professor,  warmly. 

"We  are  all  human,"  said  Mrs.  Rollmaus,  apol- 
ogetically. 

"And  I  hope,  all  good,"  replied  the  Professor. 
"Believe  me,  madame,  though  there  are  many  and 
various  views  in  philosophy  and  in  every  branch  of 
learning,  and  much  contention  respecting  many  points, 
and  though  one  is  easily  led  and  tempted  to  consider 
another  ignorant ;  yet  with  respect  to  honesty,  up- 
rightness, and  benevolence,  there  has  seldom  been 
any  difference  of  opinion,  and  all  delight  in  and  esteem 
those  in  whom  they  find  these  qualities.  And  it  is  these 
qualities,  Mrs.  Rollmaus,  I  now  find  and  honor  in  you. " 

This  he  said  to  the  learned  lady  with  much  warmth 
and  earnestness.  On  his  other  side  he  heard  the  gen- 
tle rustling  of  a  dress,  and  when  he  turned  to  Use  he 
met  a  look  so  full  of  humble  gratitude  that  he  could 
hardly  preserve  his  composure. 

Mrs.    Rollmaus,    however,    sat    smiling   and    con- 


A  LEARNED  LADY  FROM  THE  COUNTRY. 


117 


tented  with  the  philosophical  system  of  her  neighbor. 
Again  the  Professor  turned  to  her,  and  spoke  of  the 
difficulty  of  doing  good  to  the  helpless  in  the  right 
way.  Mrs.  Rollmaus  acknowledged  that  uneducated 
people  had  a  way  of  their  own,  "  But  one  can  easily 
get  on  with  them,  if  they  only  know  that  one  means 
well  by  them." 

The  Professor  afterward  occasioned  a  slight  mis- 
understanding, when  in  answer  he  respectfully  ob- 
served :  "You  are  right,  for  in  this  field  patient  love  is 
requisite  to  produce  fruitful  results." 

"Yes, "  acquiesced  Mrs.  Rollmaus,  puzzled,  "  to 
be  sure,  these  results  which  you  mention  are  not  want- 
ing among  us,  and  they  marry  for  the  most  part  just 
at  the  right  time  ;  but  the  patient  love  which  you  so 
truly  speak  of  as  requisite  is  not  always  forthcoming 
among  our  country  people,  for  in  marriage  they  fre- 
quently consider  money  more  than  love." 

If,  however, the  notes  in  the  concert  at  the  upper 
table  were  not  quite  in  accord,  yet  the  turkey  and 
custard  -  pudding — a  masterpiece  of  Use's  kitchen — 
vanished  without  any  adverse  concussion  of  learned 
wisdom.  All  rose  well  pleased  with  one  another,  only 
the  children,  whose  innocent  mischief  is  most  endur- 
ing, found  with  displeasure  that  Mrs.  Rollmaus  would 
not  on  this  occasion  enter  into  any  contest  in  which 
the  encyclopedia  could  rule  as  umpire.  While  the 
men  drank  their  coffee  in  the  next  room,  Mrs.  Roll- 
maus again  sat  on  the  sofa,  and  Use  had  a  difficult  task 
to  satisfy  her  curiosity  in  answering  all  the  questions 
with  which  she  was  overwhelmed  concerning  the  two 
strangers.  Meanwhile  the  children  besieged  the  sofa, 
lying  in  wait  for  an  opportunity  to  undertake  a  small 
campaign  against  the  unsuspecting  Mrs.  Rollmaus. 


Il8  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"  So  they  are  making  researches,  and  in  our  neigh- 
borhood. It  cannot  be  about  the  Indians.  I  did  not 
know  that  any  had  ever  come  to  these  parts.  It  must 
be  a  mistake;  and  they  must  mean  gypsies,  who  do  make 
their  appearance  here.  Only  think,  dear  Use,  a  man 
and  two  women,  each  with  a  child,  have  come  within 
the  last  fortnight.  The  women  tell  fortunes.  What 
they  have  prophesied  to  the  house- maids  is  truly  re- 
markable ;  and  in  the  morning  two  hens  disappeared. 
Can  it  be  that  their  researches  are  concerning  these 
gypsies  ?  But  that  I  cannot  believe,  as  they  are  mere 
tinkers  and  good-for-nothing  people.  No,  they  are 
not  making  investigations  concerning  them." 

"  But  who  are  the  gypsies  ?"  asked  Clara. 

"  Dear  child,  they  are  vagabonds  who  formerly 
were  a  nation,  and  now  spread  themselves  everywhere. 
They  had  a  king,  and  manuscripts,  and  hounds,  al- 
though they  were  great  rogues.  Originally  they  were 
Egyptians,  but  possibly  also  Indians." 

"  How  could  they  be  Indians?"  exclaimed  Hans, 
disrespectfully  ;  "  the  Indians  live  in  America.  We 
have  got- an  encyclopedia  too,  and  we  will  find  it  out 
immediately." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  cried  the  children,  and  ran  with  their 
brother  to  the  book-shelf.  Each  of  them  brought  a 
volume  with  new  binding,  and  placed  it  among  the 
coffee  cups  before  Mrs.  Rollmaus,  who  looked  by  no 
means  pleased  at  seeing  the  secret  source  of  her  intel- 
ligence laid  bare  before  all  eyes. 

"  And  ours  is  newer  than  yours, "  cried  little  Franz, 
waving  his  hand.  In  vain  did  Use  endeavor  by  signs 
of  disapprobation  to  suppress  this  outbreak  of  family 
pride.  Hans  held  the  volume  firmly  in  his  hands  seek- 
ing the  word  Gypsy,  and  the  overthrow  of  Mrs.  Roll- 


A  LEARNED  LADY  FROM  THE  COUNTRY.      119 

maus,  to  all  human  calculations,  could  no  longer  be 
averted.  But  suddenly  Hans  jumped  up,  and  hold- 
ing the  book  aloft  exclaimed  :  "  The  Professor  is  put 
down  here  !" 

"Our  Professor  in  the  encyclopedia?"  cried  the 
children. 

Family  feuds  and  gypsies  were  all  forgotten.  Use 
took  the  book  from  her  brother's  hand,  Mrs.  Rollmaus 
stood  up  in  order  to  read  the  remarkable  passage  over 
Use's  shoulder,  all  the  children's  heads  gathered  round 
the  book,  so  that  they  looked  like  a  cluster  of  buds  on 
a  fruit  tree,  and  all  peeped  curiously  at  the  lines  which 
were  so  glorious  for  their  guest  and  themselves. 

In  the  article  there  were  the  usual  short  remarks 
that  are  generally  made  of  living  scholars,  which  con- 
tained the  place  and  day  of  the  Professor's  birth,  and 
the  titles — mostly  in  Latin — of  his  works.  All  these 
titles  were,  in  spite  of  the  unintelligible  language,  read 
aloud,  with  the  dates  and  size  of  the  volumes.  Use 
looked  into  the  book  for  a  long  time,  and  then  handed 
it  to  the  astonished  Mrs.  Rollmaus,  then  the  children 
passed  it  from  one  to  the  other.  The  event  made  a 
greater  impression  here,  on  both  young  and  old,  than 
it  ever  could  in  literary  circles.  Happiest  of  all  was 
Mrs.  Rollmaus  :  she  had  sat  next  to  a  man  who  not 
only  could  refer  to  books,  but  was  referred  to  himself. 
Her  admiration  of  him  was  unbounded  ;  she  found,  for 
the  first  time  in  her  life,  that  she  could  hold  agreeable 
intercourse  with  a  man  of  this  stamp. 

"What  a  distinguished  scholar  !"  she  exclaimed. 
"  What  were  the  titles  of  his  works,  dear  Use  ?" 

Use  did  not  know  ;  her  eyes  and  thoughts  were 
fixed  on  the  short  notice  of  his  life. 

This  discovery  had  the  good  result  of  causing  Mrs. 


^) 


120  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

Rollmaus  to  lay  down  her  weapons  entirely  this  day, 
and  be  content  not  to  display  any  knowledge,  for  she 
saw  that  on  this  occasion  a  competition  with  the  fam- 
ily was  impossible,  and  she  condescended  to  an  un- 
pretending conversation  about  household  events.  But 
the  children  arranged  themselves  at  a  respectful  dis- 
tance from  the  Professor,  and  examined  him  curiously 
once  more  from  top  to  toe  ;  and  Hans  imparted  the 
news  in  a  low  voice  to  the  Doctor,  and  was  much  sur- 
prised that  the  latter  thought  nothing  of  it. 

After  coffee,  the  Proprietor  proposed  to  his  guests 
to  ascend  the  nearest  hill,  in  order  to  examine  the 
damage  which  had  been  done  by  the  lightning.  Use 
loaded  a  maid  with  provisions  for  supper  and  some 
flasks  of  wine,  and  the  party  started.  They  went  down 
from  the  rock  into  the  valley,  over  the  strip  of  meadow 
and  the  brook,  then  up  the  hill,  through  underbrush, 
amid  the  shadow  of  the  lofty  pines.  The  rain  had  washed 
away  the  steep  path,  and  irregular  water-channels 
furrowed  the  gravel ;  nevertheless,  the  women  stepped 
valiantly  over  the  wet  places.  But  if  it  had  been  pos- 
sible to  fail  to  perceive  from  the  dress  and  bearing  of 
the  Professor  that  he  walked  in  the  confidence  of  man- 
hood, one  might  have  imagined  that  he  was  a  deli- 
cately clad  lady,  and  Mrs.  Rollmaus  a  gentleman  in 
disguise,  for  she  hovered  round  him  reverently,  and 
would  not  leave  his  side.  She  directed  his  attention 
to  the  stones,  and,  with  the  end  of  her  umbrella  pointed 
out  the  dry  places  to  him,  and  stopped  at  times,  ex- 
pressing her  fear  that  he  would  find  this  jaunt  too 
fatiguing.  The  Professor  submitted,  though  much  sur- 
prised, to  the  homage  of  the  little  lady,  sometimes  look- 
ing enquiringly  at  Use,  over  whose  face  flitted  a  roguish 
smile.  On  the  height  the  path  became  easier,  and 


A  LEARNED  LADY  FROM  THE  COUNTRY.      121 

some  trees  of  lighter  foliage  varied  the  dark  green  of 
the  pines.  The  summit  itself  was  clear  ;  the  heather, 
on  which  the  fading  blossoms  of  the  year  still  hung, 
spread  itself  thickly  among  the  stones.  On  all  sides 
lay  the  view  of  the  landscape,  with  its  heights  and 
valleys,  the  deep  glen,  and  brook  with  its  green  border, 
the  fields  and  the  valley  of  Rossau.  In  the  direction  of 
the  setting  sun  there  rose,  one  behind  another,  long 
waves  of  undulating  ground,  tinted  with  the  purple 
hue  of  twilight,  passing  off  into  the  delicate  gray  of 
the  mountains  on  the  horizon.  It  was  a  delightful  pros- 
pect, under  a  clear  sky  in  the  midst  of  pure  mountain 
air,  and  the  party  sought  out  the  softest  and  greenest 
spots  of  the  heather,  whereon  to  rest. 

After  a  short  stay,  they  proceeded,  led  by  Hans,  to 
the  spot  where  the  tree  had  been  struck  by  lightning. 
A  belt  of  high  fir-trees  was  the  place  of  the  devastation. 
A  strong,  vigorous  pine  had  been  struck  and  pros- 
trated ;  in  desolate  confusion  the  branches  and  gigan- 
tic  splinters  of  the  white  wood  lay  around  the  broken 
trunk,  which,  blackened  and  cloven,  without  its  top, 
still  rose  out  of  its  ruins  as  high  as  a  house.  Through 
the  mass  of  branches  on  the  ground,  it  could  be 
seen  that  the  earth  also  had  been  torn  up  even  under 
the  roots  of  the  neighboring  trees.  The  older  members 
of  the  party  looked  earnestly  on  the  spot  where  one 
moment  had  turned  vigorous  life  into  frightful  de- 
formity ;  but  the  children  pressed  on  into  the  thicket 
shouting,  seized  upon  the  scaly  cones  of  the  past  year, 
and  cut  branches  from  the  tree-top,  each  endeavoring 
to  carry  off  the  largest  clusters  of  the  scaly  fruit. 

"  It  is  only  one  of  a  hundred,"  said  the  Proprietor, 
gloomily;  "but  it  is  painful  to  contemplate  such  de- 
vastation, contrary  to  the  usual  order  of  the  world,  and 


122  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

to  think  of  the  destruction  that  impended  over  our 
heads." 

"  Does  this  recollection  cause  you  only  discom- 
fort ?"  asked  the  Professor  ;  "  is  it  not  also  exalting?" 

"  The  horns  of  the  ram  are  hanging  on  the 
branches,"  said  Use,  in  a  low  tone,  to  her  father  ;  "he 
was  the  sacrifice  by  which  we  were  saved." 

"  I  think,"  added  the  Professor,  "  that  even  a  per- 
son thus  struck  by  lightning  might,  if  time  were  left  him 
for  a  last  thought,  say  to  himself  that  this  was  quite  in 
harmony  with  the  order  of  our  world.  We  soon  forget, 
amid  the  comforts  of  daily  life,  what  we  should  always 
vividly  bear  in  mind,  that  we  only  live,  like  all  other 
creatures,  subject  to  certain  conditions.  Countless 
forces  and  strange  powers  unceasingly  work  accord- 
ing to  fixed  laws  of  their  own,  maintaining,  support- 
ing, or  injuring  our  life.  The  cold  which  checks  the 
course  of  our  blood,  the  breaking  waves  in  which  the 
human  body  sinks,  the  injurious  vapors  from  the  earth 
which  poison  our  breath,  are  no  accidental  phenomena; 
the  laws  by  which  they  act  upon  us  are  as  primitive  and 
holy  as  our  need  of  food  and  drink,  of  sleep  and  light ; 
and  when  a  man  reflects  upon  his  position  among  the 
powers  of  earth,  his  life  will  be  found  to  mean  nothing 
else  than  an  active  struggle  against  them  and  an  en- 
deavor to  understand  them.  Whoever  may  provide 
the  bread  that  nourishes  us,  and  whoever  may  hew 
the  wood  that  warms  us — every  useful  activity  has 
no  other  purpose  than,  by  subduing  and  wisely  util- 
izing these  forces,  to  strengthen  and  to  protect  us. 
In  this  work  we  also  observe  that  there  is  a  secret 
union  between  every  movement  of  nature  and  our  own 
minds,  and  that  all  living  things,  however  adverse  in 
individual  existence,  together  form  one  vast  and  con- 


A  LEARNED  LADY  FROM  THE  COUNTRY.      123 

tinuous  unity.  The  presentiment  and  thought  of  this 
unity  have,  at  all  times,  been  the  most  sublime  feeling 
of  which  man  is  capable.  From  this  proceeds  an- 
other impulse,  an  overwhelming  desire  and  an  irresist- 
ible longing  to  divine  the  deeper  relations  of  these 
forces.  And  it  is  this  that  gives  us  faith.  The 
method  of  procedure  may  vary  in  different  in- 
dividuals, but  the  goal  is  the  same.  Some,  pos- 
sessed of  deep  feeling,  see  only  eternal  wisdom  in 
everything  that  to  them  seems  incomprehensible  ;  and 
in  child-like  faith  they  apply  to  it  the  most  reverent 
and  affectionate  name.  Others  earnestly  endeavor  to 
observe  the  various  laws  and  forces  of  -nature  and  re- 
verently to  comprehend  their  relations  to  each  other. 
These  latter  are  the  men  of  science.  The  men  of 
faith  and  the  men  of  science  essentially  do  the  same 
thing.  Their  attitude  is  very  modest  ;  for  both  recog- 
nize that  all  individual  life,  both  subjective  and  ob- 
jective, is  very  insignificant  as  compared  with  the  great 
All.  And  the  man  who,  when  thus  overtaken  by  death, 
could  confidently  believe  he  is  going  to  his  Father  in 
Heaven,  and  the  man  who  in  a  similar  moment  could 
bring  himself  to  intently  observe  the  manner  in  which 
the  nervous  elements  that  constitute  his  life  cease 
their  activity  —  both  are  assured  of,  and  both  would 
experience,  an  end  of  bliss  and  true  contentment." 

Thus  spoke  the  Professor  as  they  stood  before  the 
shattered  pine-tree.  The  Crown-Inspector  looked  at 
the  speaker  in  astonishment,  suspecting  him  to  be  one 
of  that  new  class  of  apostles  who  at  that  time  made 
their  appearance  in  various  parts,  and  traveled  around 
the  country  preaching  to  the  people.  Mrs.  Rollmaus 
stood  reverently  with  folded  hands,  occasionally  nod- 


A 


124  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

ding  her  assent.  Presently  she  nudged  the  Proprietor, 
whispering  : 

"  That  belongs  to  the  philosophy  of  which  we 
were  speaking." 

The  Proprietor  did  not  answer,  but  listened  with 
bowed  head.  Use  never  turned  her  eyes  from  the 
speaker  ;  his  observations  sounded  strange,  and  excited 
a  secret  uneasiness  in  her,  she  knew  not  why.  But  she 
could  say  nothing  against  them,  for  the  spring  of  genial 
life  that  issued  from  this  noble  soul  entranced  her. 
The  choice  of  words,  the  new  thoughts,  the  noble  ex- 
pression of  his  countenance,  captivated  her  irresistibly. 

The  party  returned  to  their  resting  place  on  the 
height ;  the  sun  sank  behind  the  hills,  and  the  soft 
evening  glow  gilded  first  the  tips  of  the  heather,  and 
then  rose  above  their  heads  to  the  tops  of  the  trees ; 
purple  shadows  covered  the  ground,  the  trunks  of  the 
trees,  and  the  distant  prospect.  But  small  light  clouds 
of  gold  and  purple  floated  in  the  heaven  above,  till 
there  also  the  glowing  colors  faded  into  rosy  twilight ; 
the  mist  rose  from  the  depths  below,  and  the  colors 
of  the  earth  and  the  heavens  died  away  into  a  uniform 
gray. 

Long  did  the  party  gaze  on  the  changing  lights  of 
the  evening.  At  last  the  Proprietor  called  for  the  con- 
tents of  the  basket ;  the  children  were  busy  unpacking 
and  passing  the  cold  meats  to  the  assembled  circle. 
The  Proprietor  poured  out  the  wine  and  pledged  his 
guests,  and  rejoiced  in  the  fine  evening.  At  a  sign  from 
his  father,  Hans  ran  into  the  thicket  and  fetched  some 
pine  torches. 

"There  is  no  danger  to-day,"  said  the  Proprietor 
to  Mr.  Rollmaus  whilst  lighting  the  torches. 

The  children  pressed  forward  to  be  torch-bearers, 


A  LEARNED  LADY  FROM  THE  COUNTRY.      125 

but  only  Hans  was  trusted  with  this  honorable  office  ; 
the  gentlemen  carried  the  others. 

Slowly  did  the  procession  wind  down  the  hill-path  ; 
the  torches  threw  a  glaring  light  on  copse  and  stones, 
and  on  the  faces  of  the  men,  which  in  the  curves  of  the 
road  were  lighted  up  with  a  glow  like  the  rising  moon, 
and  again  disappeared  in  the  darkness.  Mrs.  Roll- 
maus  had  endeavored  several  times  to  draw  the  other 
illustrious  stranger  into  conversation  ;  she  now  at  last 
succeeded,  when  in  a  bad  part  of  the  road.  She  began  : 

"  What  your  friend  said  was  very  good,  for  it  was 
very  instructive.  He  is  right ;  one  ought  to  struggle 
against  the  powers  and  seek  the  connecting  link.  But 
I  assure  you  it  is  difficult  for  a  woman.  For  Rollmaus, 
who  is  the  first  power  of  nature  for  me,  has  a  hatred 
of  principles  ;  he  is  always  for  doing  everything  accord- 
ing to  his  own  ideas,  and,  as  an  independent  man,  he 
has  a  right  to  do  so  ;  but  he  is  not  very  much  in  favor 
of  science,  and  even  as  regards  a  piano  for  the  chil- 
dren I  have  trouble  with  him.  But  I  seek  after  prin- 
ciples and  powers,  and  what  is  called  the  connecting 
link  ;  and  I  read  what  I  can,  for  one  likes  to  know 
what  is  going  on  in  the  world,  and  to  raise  oneself 
above  ordinary  people.  But  often  one  does  not  under- 
stand a  thing  even  when  read  twice  ;  and  when  it  is  at 
last  understood  it  may  have  become  obsolete  and  no 
longer  worth  anything,  and  so  I  have  often  been 
tempted  to  give  up  all  research  whatsoever." 

"  You  should  not  do  that,"  exclaimed  the  Doctor  ; 
"there  is  always  a  secret  satisfaction  in  knowing  a 
thing." 

"  If  I  lived  in  town,"  continued  the  lady,  "I  would 
devote  myself  entirely  to  learning  ;  but  in  the  country 
one  is  too  much  isolated,  and  there  is  the  housekeep- 


126  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

ing,  and  one's  husband,  who  is  sometimes  hard  to 
please.  You  have  no  idea  what  a  good  farmer  he 
is.  Rollmaus,  hold  your  torch  aside,  all  the  smoke 
blows  in  the  Doctor's  face." 

Rollmaus  turned  his  torch  away  and  grumbled. 
His  wife  drew  close  to  him,  seized  his  arm  and  whis- 
pered to  him  :  "  Before  we  go  away  you  must  invite 
the  gentlemen  to  visit  us  ;  it  is  the  right  thing  to  do." 

"He  is  a  mendicant  priest,"  answered  the  hus- 
band, peevishly. 

"  For  God's  sake,  Rollmaus,  don't  do  anything 
foolish  ;  above  all,  do  not  blaspheme,"  she  continued, 
pressing  his  arm  ;  "  he  is  mentioned  in  the  encyclo- 
pedia." 

"  In  yours?"  asked  the  husband. 

"In  the  one  here,"  replied  the  wife,  "which 
amounts  to  the  same  thing." 

"There  are  many  things  in  books  that  are  of  less 
value  than  others  that  are  not  there,"  said  the  hus- 
band, unmoved. 

"  I  am  not  to  be  put  off  in  that  way.  You  will  not 
confute  me  by  that,"  replied  the  wife.  "  I  tell  you  that 
he  is  a  man  of  renown,  and  propriety  demands  that 
we  should  take  the  fact  into  consideration,  and  you 
know  that  so  far  as  propriety  is  concerned — " 

"  Only  be  quiet,"  said  Rollmaus,  soothingly.  "  I 
say  nothing  to  the  contrary,  if  needs  be  ;  I  have  eaten 
many  a  sour  apple  on  your  account." 

"  On  my  account !"  cried  the  wife,  offended.  "Have 
I  been  unreasonable — am  I  a  tyrant — am  I  an  Eve  who 
has  stood  with  her  husband  under  the  tree,  with  loose 
hair,  and  not  even  a  chemise  ?  Will  you  compare 
yourself  and  me  with  such  a  state  of  things  ?" 


A  LEARNED  LADY  FROM  THE  COUNTRY. 


127 


"No,"  said  Rollmaus.  "Only  be  content;  you 
know  how  we  get  on  together." 

"  Don't  you  see  that  I  am  right?  "  replied  the  wife, 
soothed.  "  Believe  me,  I  know  also  how  others  get 
on  together,  and  I  tell  you  I  have  a  presentiment  that 
something  is  brewing." 

"What  is  brewing?"  asked  Mr.  Rollrnaus. 

"Something  between  Use  and  the  Professor." 

"  Tne  devil  there  is  !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Rollmaus, 
with  more  vivacity  than  he  had  shown  the  whole  day. 

"  Be  quiet,  Rollmaus,  you  will  be  heard  ;  do  not 
lose  command  of  yourself." 

Use  had  remained  behind  ;  she  was  leading  her 
youngest  brother,  who  was  tired.  The  Professor 
gallantly  remained  by  her.  He  pointed  out  to  her  how 
well  the  procession  looked  ;  the  torches,  like  large 
glow-worms,  in  front ;  behind,  the  sharply  outlined 
figures,  and  the  flickering  of  the  gleaming  light  upon 
the  trunks  and  green  branches  of  the  trees.  Use  list- 
ened to  him  long  in  silence.  At  last  she  said  :  "The 
most  charming  thing  of  the  day  was  the  kind  way  you 
spoke  to  our  dear  neighbor  Mrs.  Rollmaus.  When 
she  was  seated  by  you,  I  felt  troubled  in  mind,  for  I 
thought  it  would  annoy  you  to  listen  to  the  importunate 
questions  of  our  friend,  and  it  all  at  once  struck  me 
that  toward  us  also  you  exercise  constant  considera- 
tion ;  and  that  thought  tormented  me.  But  when  I 
saw  that  you  so  kindly  and  frankly  recognized  the 
good  that  is  in  our  friend  and  her  fullness  of  soul,  I 
felt  that  it  cost  you  no  great  effort  of  self-command  to 
hold  intercourse  with  us  simple  folk." 

"  My  dear  Miss,"  exclaimed  the  Professor,  anx- 
iously, "  I  hope  you  are  convinced  that  I  only  said 
to  the  worthy  lady  what  came  sincerely  from  my  heart  ?  " 


128  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"I  know  it,"  said  Use,  with  warmth,  "and  the 
honest  soul  felt  it  also  herself  —  she  has  been  quieter 
and  more  cheerful  than  usual  the  whole  day  —  and 
therefore  I  thank  you.  Yes,  from  my  heart,  "  she  added, 
softly. 

Praise  from  the  lips  of  one  beloved  is  not  among 
the  least  of  the  pleasures  that  a  man  enjoys.  The  Pro- 
fessor looked  beaming  with  happiness  at  his  neighbor, 
who  now  in  the  darkness  led  her  brother  along  at  a 
quicker  pace.  He  did  not  venture  to  break  the  silence  ; 
the  pure  hearts  of  both  had  been  revealed,  and,  with- 
out speaking  a  word  both  felt  the  stream  of  warm  sen- 
timent that  passed  from  one  to  the  other. 

"  For  him  who  passes  from  the  midst  of  books  into 
the  paths  of  men,"  began  the  Professor,  at  last,  "  the 
pedantic  habit  of  continued  reading  there  acquired, 
often  makes  it  easier  to  derive  from  a  strange  mode 
of  life  that  which  is  of  the  highest  benefit  to  his  own. 
For,  after  all,  there  is  in  every  life  an  element  that 
commands  reverence,  however  much  it  may  often  be 
veiled  by  wondrous  accompaniments." 

"We  are  commanded  to  love  our  neighbors,"  said 
Use,  "  and  we  endeavor  to  do  so  ;  but  when  one  finds 
that  this  love  is  given  so  cheerfully  and  nobly,  it  is 
touching  ;  and  when  one  sees  such  feeling  displayed, 
it  becomes  an  example  and  elevates  the  heart.  Come, 
Franz,"  she  said,  turning  to  her  brother,  "we  are 
not  far  from  home."  But  Franz  stumbled,  and,  half 
asleep,  declared  that  his  legs  ached. 

"Up  with  you,  little  man,"  said  the  Professor, 
"  let  me  carry  you." 

Use,  distressed,  tried  to  prevent  it.  "I  cannot 
allow  that  ;  it  is  only  sleep  that  makes  him  so  lazy." 

"  Only  till  we  reach  the  valley,"  said  the  Professor, 


A  LEARNED  LADY  FROM  THE  COUNTRY.      129 

raising  the  child  on  his  shoulder.  Franz  clasped  his 
arms  round  the  Professor's  neck,  and  clinging  close 
to  him,  was  soon  fast  asleep.  When  they  came  to  a 
steep  turn  of  the  road,  the  Professor  offered  the  arm 
which  was  free  to  his  companion  ;  but  she  refused, 
only  supporting  herself  a  little  with  his  proffered  hand. 
But  her  hand  glided  down  and  remained  in  that  of 
her  companion.  Thus  hand  in  hand  the}'  walked  down 
the  last  part  of  the  hill  into  the  valley,  neither  of  them 
speaking  a  word.  When  they  arrived  at  the  bottom, 
Use  gently  withdrew  her  hand,  and  he  released  it  with- 
out a  word  or  pressure  ;  but  these  few  minutes  com- 
prised for  both  a  world  of  happy  feelings. 

"Come  down,  Franz,"  said  Use,  taking  her  sleep- 
ing brother  from  the  arm  of  her  friend.  She  bent 
down  to  the  little  one  to  encourage  him,  and  they  went 
on  to  join  the  party,  who  were  waiting  for  them  at  the 
brook. 

The  carriage  of  the  Crown-Inspector  drew  up.  The 
parting  greetings  of  his  wife  were  very  verbose,  and 
her  representations  had  mitigated  his  obstinacy,  so 
that,  cap  in  hand,  he  made  up  his  mind  to  take,  with 
tolerable  decorum,  a  bite  of  the  aforementioned  sour 
apple.  He  approached  the  literary  gentlemen,  and 
asked  them  to  grant  him  also  the  pleasure  of  a  visit  ;• 
and  even  the  utterance  of  these  friendly  words  had  a 
softening  influence  on  his  honest  soul.  He  now  held 
out  his  hand  to  them,  and  receiving  a  hearty  shake  he 
began  to  think  that  the  strangers  were  not  in  reality 
so  bad  as  might  be  supposed.  The  Proprietor  accom- 
panied his  guests  to  the  carriage,  Hans  passed  the 
bandbox  in,  and  the  two  country-gentlemen,  as  they 
bade  each  other  good  night,  watched  the  starting  of 
the  horses  with  the  eyes  of  connoisseurs. 


130  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

NEW    HOSTILITIES. 

WHILST  a  bright  womanly  form  rose  on  the  horizon 
between  the  Professor  and  the  Doctor,  fate  decreed 
that  a  new  feud  should  break  out  betwixt  the  two  neigh- 
boring houses  in  the  city.  It  happened  thus. 

Mr.  Hahn  had  availed  himself  of  the  absence  of 
his  son  to  beautify  his  grounds.  His  garden  ran  in  a 
point  to  the  park,  and  he  had  bethought  him  much 
how  this  corner  might  be  turned  to  good  account  ;  for 
the  little  mound  which  he  had  thrown  up  there,  and 
planted  with  roses,  seemed  unsatisfactory.  He  deter- 
mined, therefore,  to  erect  a  weather-proof  summer- 
house  for  such  visitors  as  were  not  inclined  in  bad 
weather  to  retire  to  the  residence.  Everything  had  been 
wisely  considered  before  the  departure  of  his  son.  The 
following  day  he  caused  a  slender  wooden  structure  to 
be  erected,  with  small  windows  toward  the  street,  and 
•above,  instead  of  a  roof,  a  platform  with  airy  benches, 
the  laths  of  which  projected  boldly  over  the  wooden 
walls  and  garden  palings  out  into  the  street.  Every- 
thing seemed  favorable.  But  when  Mr.  Hahn,  with 
hearty  satisfaction,  led  his  wife  up  the  small  side  steps 
on  to  the  platform,  and  the  plump  lady,  not  anticipat- 
ing anything  wrong,  sat  down  on  the  airy  bench,  and 
from  thence  looked  with  admiration  on  the  world  be- 
neath her,  it  was  soon  discovered  that  the  passers-by 
in  the  street  had  to  go  directly  under  her,  and  the  sky 


^ 


NEW    HOSTILITIES.  131 

above  was  darkened  to  whoever  passed  along  the  fence 
by  the  plumage  of  the  great  bird  that,  perched  on  her 
high  nest,  sat  with  her  back  turned  to  the  street.  Before 
a  quarter  of  an  hour  had  passed,  accordingly,  such  sharp 
remarks  were  heard  that  the  inoffensive  Mrs.  Hahn 
was  on  the  point  of  weeping,  and  declared  to  her  lord, 
with  unwonted  energy,  that  she  would  never  again  al- 
low herself  to  be  treated  as  a  hen,  or  ascend  the  plat- 
form any  more.  The  family  frame  of  mind  was  not 
improved  either  by  the  part  that  Mr.  Hummel  had 
taken,  for  he  had  stood  by  the  fence  of  his  neighbor's 
garden  during  this  exhibition  of  Mrs.  Hahn,  and  had 
laughed  at  the  vile  speeches  of  the  passers-by. 

Mr.  Hahn,  however,  after  a  short  struggle  between 
pride  and  discretion,  listened  to  the  voice  of  his  better 
self,  removed  the  benches  and  the  platform,  and  erected 
over  the  summer-house  a  beautiful  Chinese  roof ;  and 
on  the  projections  of  this  roof  he  hung  small  bells, 
which  sounded  softly  when  the  wind  rose.  This  idea 
would  have  been  a  decided  improvement  ;  but,  alas  ! 
the  wickedness  of  man  gave  no  rest  to  this  work  of 
art  for  the  urchins  in  the  street  diverted  themselves 
by  continually  keeping  the  bells  in  movement  by  means 
of  long  switches.  On  the  first  night,  therefore,  the 
neighborhood  was  awakened  from  its  slumbers  by  a 
concert  of  many  bells.  That  night  Mr.  Hahn  dreamed 
that  winter  was  come,  and  that  a  merry  party  of  sleighs 
were  passing  round  his  house  ;  he  listened,  and  indig- 
nantly discovered  that  his  own  bells  had  been  set  in 
motion.  He  hastened  into  the  garden  in  his  night- 
dress, and  called  out,  angrily  : 

"Who  is  there?" 

In  an  instant  the  ringing  ceased,  deep  silence  and 
peaceful  quiet  reigned  around.  He  went  up  to  the 


132  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

garden- house,  and  looked  at  his  bells,  which  might  be 
seen  swinging  under  the  darkened  sky  ;  but  round- 
about no  one  was  to  be  discovered.  He  went  back  to 
his  bed,  but  scarcely  had  he  laid  himself  down  when 
the  noise  began  again,  quick  and  loud,  as  if  pealing 
for  a  Christmas  party.  Again  he  rushed  out  of  the 
house,  and  again  the  noise  ceased  ;  but  when  he  raised 
himself  above  the  railing  and  looked  around,  he  saw 
in  the  garden  opposite  the  broad  figure  of  Mr.  Hum- 
mel standing  by  the  hedge,  and  heard  a  threatening 
voice  call  out  : 

"What  crazy  conduct  is  this  ?  " 

"  It  is  inexplicable,  Mr.  Hummel,"  exclaimed  Mr. 
Hahn,  across  the  street,  in  a  conciliatory  tone. 

"  Nothing  is  inexplicable,"  cried  out  Mr.  Hummel, 
"  but  the  mischievous  insanity  of  hanging  bells  in  the 
open  air  over  a  public  street." 

"  I  resent  your  attack, "called  out  Mr.  Hahn  deeply 
wounded.  "  I  have  a  right  to  hang  up  what  I  like  on 
my  own  property." 

Then  there  began  a  conflict  of  views  across  the 
street,  weird  and  frightful.  There  Hummel's  bass,  here 
Hahn's  sharp  voice,  which  gradually  rose  into  a  counter- 
tenor ;  both  figures  in  long  night-dresses,  divided  by 
the  street  and  railings,  but  like  two  heroes  of  antiquity 
belaboring  one  another  with  strong  language.  If  one 
failed  to  perceive  the  wild  effect  given  to  Mr.  Hahn 
by  the  red  color  of  his  night-dress,  he  yet  might  be 
seen  towering  upon  the  height  near  his  Chinese  temple, 
raising  his  arm  imposingly  across  the  horizon  ;  but  Mr. 
Hummel  stood  in  the  darkness,  overshadowed  by  the 
wild  vine. 

"  I  will  have  you  before  the  police  court,  for  dis- 
turbing the  public  peace,"  cried  Mr.  Hummel  at  last, 


NEW    HOSTILITIES.  133 

but  felt  the  small  hand  of  his  wife  at  his  back,  who 
seized  him  by  his  night-dress,  turned  him  round,  and 
gently  entreated  him  not  to  make  a  scene. 

"  And  I  will  inquire  before  the  court  who  gave  you 
a  right  to  heap  abuse  upon  me  from  across  the  street," 
called  out  Mr.  Hahn,  likewise  in  the  act  of  retiring, 
for  amidst  the  noise  of  the  fight  he  had  now  and  then 
heard  the  soft  words,  "  Come  back,  Hahn,"  and  seen 
his  wife  behind  him  wringing  her  hands.  But  he  was 
not  in  a  disposition  to  abandon  the  field  of  battle. 

"A  light  and  ladder  here,"  he  exclaimed,  "  I  will 
unearth  this  shameful  trick." 

The  ladder  and  lanterns  speedily  made  their  appear- 
ance, brought  by  the  frightened  maid-servant.  Mr. 
Hahn  mounted  up  to  his  bells,  and  sought  long  in  vain  ; 
at  last  he  discovered  that  some  one  had  contrived  to 
unite  the  separate  bells  by  a  plait  of  horse-hair  and 
thus  had  rung  them  from  the  outside  by  a  string. 

This  wild  night  was  followed  by  a  gloomy  morn. 

"  Go  to  the  fellow  across  the  street,  Gabriel,"  said 
Mr.  Hummel,  "and  ask  if,  for  the  sake  of  peace,  he 
is  willing  to  take  down  his  bells  at  once.  I  require 
my  sleep,  and  I  will  not  suffer  that  a  rabble  of  thieves 
shall  be  allured  to  my  house,  make  inroads  upon 
the  fence,  steal  my  plums,  and  break  into  my  factory. 
This  man,  by  his  ringing,  calls  together  all  the  rogues 
of  the  neighborhood." 

Gabriel  replied  :  "  I  will  go  over  there  for  the  sake 
of  peace  ;  but  only  if  I  may  say  with  civility  what  I 
think  fit." 

"  With  civility?  "  repeated  Hummel,  winking  slyly 
at  his  confidant.  "  You  do  not  understand  your  own 
interest.  So  fine  an  opportunity  of  making  yourself 
important  will  not  occur  soon  again,  and  it  would  be  a 


134 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


pity  to  let  it  escape  you.  But  I  foresee,  Gabriel,  that, 
civil  or  not,  we  shall  be  unable  to  deal  with  the  man. 
He's  malicious  and  obstinate  and  bitter.  He  is  a  bull- 
dog, Gabriel.  There,  you  have  his  character." 

Gabriel  proceeded  to  the  house  of  poor  Mr.  Hahn, 
who  sat,  still  suffering,  before  his  untasted  breakfast, 
and  looked  suspiciously  at  the  inmate  of  the  hostile 
house. 

"  I  come  only  to  inquire,"  began  Gabriel,  adroitly, 
"whether,  perhaps,  you  may  have  received  intelli- 
gence through  your  son  of  my  master  ?  " 

"None, "answered  Mr.  Hahn,  sorrowfully  ;  "there 
are  times  when  everything  goes  wrong,  dear  Gabriel." 

"Yes,  what  a  roguish  trick  that  was,  last  night," 
said  Gabriel,  pityingly. 

Mr  Hahn  sprang  up. 

"He  called  me  insane  and  said  I  was  a  coxcomb. 
Am  I  to  put  up  with  that  ?  I,  a  man  of  business, 
and  in  my  own  garden  !  As  for  the  plaything,  you 
may  be  right  enough  ;  one  must  not  put  too  much  con- 
fidence in  men.  But  now  my  honor  is  touched,  and  I 
tell  you  the  bells  shall  remain,  and  I  shall  place  a 
watchman  there  every  night." 

In  vain  did  Gabriel  speak  rationally  to  him.  Mr. 
Hahn  was  inexorable,  and  called  out  after  him  as 
he  was  leaving  : 

"  Tell  him  we  shall  meet  again  in  court." 

Accordingly  he  went  to  his  attorney,  and  insisted 
upon  bringing  a  suit  for  the  abusive  language  of  the 
previous  night. 

"  Good,"  said  Mr.  Hummel, when  Gabriel  returned 
from  his  fruitless  mission.  "These  people  compel  me 
to  adopt  measures  of  security  for  myself.  I  will  take 
care  that  no  strange  horse-hair  shall  be  attached  to 


NEW    HOSTILITIES.  135 

my  house.  When  the  rogues  sound  the  bells  over 
there,  the  dogs  shall  bark  here.  Measure  for  measure, 
Gabriel." 

He  went  gloomily  to  his  factory,  and  paced  about 
wildly.  His  bookkeeper,  who  appeared  to  be  a  much- 
oppressed  man,  because  he  never  could  obtain  his 
rights  from  Mr.  Hummel,  thought  it  was  his  duty  and 
a  fitting  time  to  speak. 

"  The  ideas  of  this  man  Hahn  are  absurd  ;  all  the 
world  finds  fault  with  them." 

But  the  speech  did  him  no  good. 

"  What  do  this  man's  ideas  signify  to  you  ?  "  cried 
Hummel.  .  "Are  you  the  householder,  and  are  you  or 
I  head  of  this  business  ?  If  I  choose  to  be  angry  it  is 
my  affair  and  not  yours.  His  new  clerk,  Knips,  wears 
his  hair  in  frizzy  curls,  and  perfumes  himself  with  Eau 
de  Cologne  ;  you  may  make  fun  of  him  about  that ;  that 
is  your  right.  As  to  what  concerns  the  rest  of  the 
world,  your  blame  of  this  man's  devices  is  worth  about 
as  much  as  the  twittering  of  the  sparrow  on  the  house- 
top ;  and  if  he  should  every  day  hang  a  peal  of  bells 
on  his  shoulders  and  go  in  that  attire  into  the  counting- 
house,  he  would  still  remain  a  respectable  citizen  so 
far  as  this  street  rabble  is  concerned.  Only,  as  regards 
myself,  it  is  another  thing.  I  am*  his  neighbor  day 
and  night,  and  if  he  gets  into  trouble  I  also  have  to 
suffer.  For  the  rest,  I  object  to  all  calumnies  on  my 
fellow-men.  What  must  be  said  is  my  business  alone, 
without  associates  ;  remember  that." 

A  few  evenings  later,  Gabriel  was  standing  before 
the  house-door,  looking  up  to  the  heavens  and  watch- 
ing whether  a  small  black  cloud,  which  was  slowly 
floating  past,  would  cover  the  face  of  the  moon.  Just 
as  this  took  place,  and  the  street  and  both  houses  lay 


p 


l^(>  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

in  darkness  a  carriage  drove  up  to  the  house,  and  the 
voice  of  the  master  called  out  :     "Is  all  well  ?  " 

"All  well,"  answered  Gabriel,  and  unbuttoned  the 
apron. 

Mr.  Hummel  descended  heavily,  and  behind  him 
was  heard  an  angry  growl. 

"What  have  you  got  in  there?"  asked  Gabriel,  with 
much  curiosity,  putting  his  hands  into  the  carriage, 
but  he  quickly  withdrew  them.  "The  beast  bites!" 
he  ejaculated. 

"I  hope  it  does,"  replied  Mr.  Hummel.  I  meant 
it  to  bite.  I  have  brought  a  pair  of  watch-dogs  as  a 
guard  against  the  bell  ringers.  " 

He  pulled  out  by  a  rope  two  indistinct  figures, 
which  rushed  about  yelping  hoarsely,  and,  circling 
round  Gabriel's  legs,  viciously  drew  the  cord  round 
him  like  a  noose. 

Gabriel  extricated  himself.  The  clouds  had  passed 
away,  and  in  the  bright  moon  light  both  dogs  were 
plainly  visible. 

"They  are  strange  beasts,  Mr.  Hummel.  A  curious 
race.  Evidently  mongrels,"  he  continued,  in  a  depre- 
catory tone  ;  "hardly  medium  size,  thick  in  the  chest, 
and  with  shaggy  hair  ;  the  bristles  hang  over  their 
muzzles  like  mustachios.  The  mother  must  have  been 
a  poodle,  the  father  a  spitz  ;  I  think  I  also  detect  some 
relationship  with  the  pug,  and  the  great-grandfather 
must  have  been  a  terrier.  A  remarkable  product,  Mr. 
Hummel,  and  somewhat  rare.  How  did  you  come  by 
the  animals?" 

"  By  accident.  I  could  not  obtain  a  dog  in  the  vil- 
lage to-day  ;  but  as  I  was  returning  through  the  wood 
the  horses  suddenly  shied  and  would  not  move  on. 
While  the  coachman  was  handling  them,  I  all  at  once 


NEW    HOSTILITIES.  137 

perceived  near  the  carriage  a  large  dark  man,  stand- 
ing as  if  he  had  sprung  out  of  the  ground.  He  was 
holding  the  two  dogs  by  a  rope,  and  laughed  jeeringly 
at  the  abuse  of  the  coachman.  '  What  is  the  matter  ?' 
I  called  out  to  him  ;  '  where  are  you  taking  the  dogs 
to?'  'To  whosoever  wishes  to  have  them,'  said 
the  black  fellow.  '  Lift  them  into  the  carriage  ,'  said  I. 
'  I  shall  do  nothing  of  the  sort,'  growled  the  stranger ; 
'  you  must  fetch  them  yourself.'  I  descended  and  asked 
him  what  he  wanted  for  them.  He  replied  '  Noth- 
ing.' The  matter  looked  suspicious,  but  I  thought  it 
would  be  no  harm  to  try  them.  I  lifted  the  beasts 
into  the  carriage ;  and  found  them  as  quiet  as  lambs. 
'What  are  their  names?'  I  cried  out  from  the  car- 
riage. '  Brauhahn  and  Goslar, '  said  the  man,  laugh- 
ing fiendishly." 

"  But  they  are  no  dogs'  names,  Mr.  Hummel,"  in- 
terposed Gabriel,  shaking  his  head. 

"That  was  what  I  told  the  man,  but  he  replied, 
'they  never  suffered  babtism.'  'But  the  rope  is  yours,' 
I  said  ;  and  only  think,  Gabriel,  this  black  fellow  an- 
swered me  :  '  Keep  it ;  and  hang  yourself  with  it.'  I 
wanted  to  throw  the  dogs  out  of  the  carriage  again, 
but  the  man  had  vanished  into  the  wood  like  a  will-o'- 
the-wisp." 

"That  is  a  dreadful  story,"  said  Gabriel,  much 
troubled  ;  "these  dogs  have  been  raised  in  no  Chris- 
tian household.  And  do  you  really  intend  to  keep  the 
ill-omened  creatures  ?  " 

"I  shall  make  the  attempt,"  said  Mr.  Hummel. 
"After  all,  a  dog  is  a  dog." 

"  Be  on  your  guard,  Mr.  Hummel,  there  is  some- 
thing mysterious  in  these  beasts." 

"Nonsense  !  " 


!^8  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"They  are  monsters,"  continued  Gabriel,  counting  . 
on  his,  fingers  ;  ' '  first,  they  have  not  the  names  of  earthly 
dogs;    secondly,  they  were  offered   without   money; 
thirdly,  no  man  knows  what  food  they  eat. " 

'/  As  to  their  appetite,  you  will  not  have  to  wait 
long  to  discover  what  that  is,"  replied  the  master  of 
the  house. 

Gabriel  drew  a  bit  of  bread  out  of  his  pocket,  and 
the  dogs  snapped  at  it.  '  "  In  that  regard  they  are  of 
the  right  species,"  he  said,  a  little  tranquillized  ;  "but 
what  are  they  to  be  called  in  the  house  ?  " 

"Brauhahn  I  shall  call  Fighthahn,"  replied  Mr. 
Hummel ;  "and  in  my  family  no  dogs  shall  be  called 
Goslar.  I  cannot  bear  the  beastly  drink."  He  cast 
a  hostile  look  at  the  neighboring  house.  "  Other 
people  have  such  stuff  fetched  every  day  across  the 
street,  but  that  is  no  reason  why  I  should  suffer  such 
a  word  in  my  household.  The  black  shall  from  this 
day  forth  be  called  Fight/ia/in  and  the  red  Spite/ia/m — 
that  is  settled. 

"  But,  Mr.  Hummel,  these  names  are  clearly  offen- 
sive," exclaimed  Gabriel;  "  that  will  make  the  matter 
worse." 

"That  is  my  affair,"  said  Mr.  Hummel,  decidedly. 
"At  night  they  shall  remain  in  the  yard  ;  they  must 
guard  the  house." 

"So  long  as  they  do  but  preserve  their  bodies," 
said  Gabriel,  warningly  ;  "but  this  kind  come  and 
vanish  as  they  please — not  as  we  wish." 

"Yet  they  are  not  of  the  devil,"  rejoined  Mr.  Hum- 
mel, laughing. 

"Who  speaks  of  the  devil?"  replied  Gabriel, 
quickly.  "  There  is  no  devil — that  the  Professor  will 
never  allow ;  but  of  dogs  we  have  various  kinds." 


NEW    HOSTILITIES. 


'39 


So  saying,  Gabriel  took  the  animals  into  the  hall. 
Mr.  Hummel  called  out  into  the  room  :  "  Good  even- 
ing, Philippine.  Here,  I  have  brought  you  a  present." 

Mrs.  Hummel  came  to  the  door  with  a  light,  and 
looked  astonished  at  the  present,  which  whined  at  her 
feet.  This  humility  disposed  the  lady  to  regard  them 
with  benevolence. 

"But  they  are  frightful,"  she  said,  dubiously,  as 
the  red  and  the  black  sat  down  on  each  side  of  her, 
wagging  their  tails  and  looking  up  at  her  from  under 
their  shaggy  eyebrows.  ' '  And  why  did  you  bring  two  ?  " 

"They  are  not  intended  for  exhibition,"  returned 
Mr.  Hummel  in  a  pacifying  tone;  "they  are  country 
ware — one  is  a  substitute  for  the  other." 

After  this  presentation  they  were  carried  off  to  a 
shed.  Gabriel  once  more  tried- their  capacity  of  eating 
and  drinking  ;  they  showed  themselves  thoroughly  sat- 
isfactory in  this  respect,  though  as  regards  personal 
beauty  they  were  not  distinguished  dogs  ;  and  Gabriel 
went  to  his  room  free  from  anxiety. 

When  the  clock  struck  ten,  and  the  gate  which 
separated  the  court-yard  from  the  street  was  closed, 
Mr.  Hummel  went  down  himself  to  the  dogs'  shed  to 
initiate  these  new  watchers  into  their  calling.  He  was 
much  astonished,  on  opening  the  door,  to  find  that  they 
did  not  require  any  encouraging  words  from  him — both 
rushed  out  between  his  legs  into  the  yard.  As  if  driven 
by  an  invisible  whip,  they  dashed  at  a  headlong  pace 
round  the  house  and  factory — always  together,  and 
never  silent.  Hitherto  they  had  been  depressed  and 
quiet ;  now,  either  as  the  result  of  the  good  food  they 
had  devoured  or  because  their  night  watch  had  come, 
they  became  so  noisy  that  even  Mr.  Hummel  drew 
back  in  astonishment.  Their  hoarse  short  bark  deaf- 


140  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

ened  the  horn  of  the  night  watchman  and  the  call  of 
their  master,  who  wished  to  recommend  moderation. 
They  chased  wildly  and  incessantly  around  the  court, 
and  a  continuous  yelping  accompanied  their  stormy 
career.  The  windows  of  the  house  were  thrown  open. 

"This  will  be  a  horrible  night,  Mr.  Hummel,"  said 
Gabriel. 

"Henry,"  cried  out  his  wife  from  her  bedroom 
"this  is  insupportable." 

"It  is  their  first  outburst  of  joy,"  nothing  more, 
said  Mr.  Hummel,  consolingly,  and  withdrawing  into 
the  house. 

But  this  view  of  the  matter  turned  out  to  be  erro- 
neous. Throughout  the  whole  night  the  barking  of  the 
dogs  sounded  from  the  court-yard.  In  the  houses  of  the 
neighborhood,  shutters  were  thrown  open,  and  loud 
words  of  reproach  addressed  to  Mr.  Hummel.  The 
following  morning  he  arose  in  a  state  of  great  uncer- 
tainty. Even  his  own  sound  sleep  had  been  disturbed 
by  the  reproaches  of  his  wife,  who  now  sat  at  breakfast 
angry  and  depressed  with  headache.  When  he  entered 
the  court-yard,  and  gathered  from  his  men  the  com- 
plaints they  had  heard  from  the  neighbors,  even  he 
hesitated  for  a  moment  whether  he  should  keep  the 
dogs. 

Ill  luck  would  have  it  that  just  at  this  moment  Mr. 
Hahn's  porter  entered  the  court-yard,  and  with  de- 
fiant mien  announced  that  Mr.  Hahn  insisted  upon  Mr. 
Hummel  putting  a  stop  to  this  outrageous  barking,  or 
he  should  be  obliged  to  seek  redress  before  a  justice 
of  the  peace. 

This  attitude  of  his  opponent  at  once  decided  the 
inward  struggle  of  Mr.  Hummel. 

"  If  I  can  bear  the  barking  of  my  dogs,  other  peo- 


NEW    HOSTILITIES.  141 

pie  can  do  so  too.  The  bells  play  on  your  side  of  the 
way  and  the  dogs  sing  on  mine,  and  if  any  one  wishes 
to  hear  my  views  before  a  magistrate  he  shall  hear 
enough  to  satisfy  him." 

He  returned  to  the  house  and  with  dignity  ap- 
proached his  suffering  wife. 

"Are  two  dogs  to  come  between  you  and  me, 
Henry  ?  "  asked  the  wife,  with  faltering  voice. 

"Never,"  replied  Mr.  Hummel ;  the  domestic  peace 
must  be  preserved.  I  am  sorry  that  you  have  a  head- 
ache, and  to  please  you  I  would  remove  the  beasts. 
But  I  have  collided  again  with  that  coxcomb  across  the 
way.  For  the  second  time  he  threatens  me  with  a  suit 
and  the  magistrate.  My  honor  is  at  stake,  and  I  can 
no  longer  give  in.  Be  a  good  wife,  Philippine,  and  try 
to  bear  it  a  few  nights  longer.  Put  cotton  in  your  ears, 
till  the  dogs  have  gotten  accustomed  to  their  work." 

"  Henry,"  replied  the  wife, wearily,  "  I  have  never 
doubted  your  heart ;  but  your  character  is  rough,  and 
the  voices  of  the  dogs  are  too  horrible.  Can  you,  in 
order  to  enforce  your  will,  see  your  wife  suffer,  and 
become  seriously  ill,  from  sleeplessness  ?  Will  you,  in 
order  to  maintain  your  position,  sacrifice  peace  with 
the  neighborhood  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  want  you  to  be  ill,  but  I  will  not  send 
away  the  dogs,"  replied  Mr.  Hummel,  seizing  his  felt 
.hat,  and  going  to  the  factory  with  heavy  step. 

If  Mr.  Hummel  indulged  in  the  hope  that  he  had 
ended  the  domestic  struggle  as  conqueror,  he  was 
greatly  in  error.  There  was  still  another  power  in  his 
home,  who  opened  the  campaign  in  a  different  man- 
ner. When  Mr.  Hummel  approached  his  desk  in  his 
little  counting-house,  he  saw  near  the  inkstand  a  nose- 
gay of  flowers.  Attached  to  the  pink  ribbon  hung  a 


142 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


note  which  was  sealed  with  a  forget-me-not,  and  ad- 
dressed— "To  my  dear  Father." 

"That  is  my  bright-eyed  girl,"  he  murmured,  and 
opening  the  note  read  the  following  lines  : 

"  My  dear  pa,  good  morrow  1 
The  dogs  cause  great  sorrow, 
They  are  not  delightful  ; 
Their  bark  is  just  frightful  ; 
Their  ardor  and  sanguinity 
Disturb  the  vicinity. 
For  the  sake  of  our  neighborhood, 
Be  noble,  generous  and  good." 

Hummel  laughed  so  heartily  that  the  work  in  the 
factory  stopped,  and  every  one  was  amazed  at  his  good 
humor.  Then  he  marked  the  note  with  the  date  of  its 
reception,  put  it  in  his  pocket-book,  and  after  exam- 
ining the  letters  that  had  arrived,  he  betook  himself  into 
the  garden.  He  saw  his  little  daughter  sprinkling  the 
beds  with  her  watering-pot,  and  his  heart  swelled  with 
a  father's  pride.  With  what  grace  she  turned  and  bent, 
and  how  her  dark  locks  hung  round  the  blooming  face, 
and  how  actively  she  raised  and  swung  the  watering- 
pot  ;  and,  on  perceiving  him,  when  she  put  it  down  and 
held  her  finger  threateningly  at  him,  he  was  quite  en- 
chanted. 

"  Verses  again,"  he  called  out  to  her,  "  I  have  re- 
ceived Number  Nine." 

"And  you  will  be  my  good  papa,"  cried  Laura, 
hastening  toward  him  and  stroking  his  chin  ;  "  do  send 
them  away." 

"But,  my  child,"  said  the  father,  composedly.  "  I 
have  already  spoken  to  your  mother  about  it,  and  I 
have  already  explained  to  her  why  I  cannot  dispose  of 
them.  Now,  I  cannot  do  to  please  you,  what  I  have 
refused  your  mother;  that  would  be  contrary  to  all 
family  regulations.  Respect  your  mother,  little  girl." 


NEW    HOSTILITIES.  143 

"You  are  a  hard-hearted  father,"  replied  the 
daughter,  pouting;  "and  more  than  that,  you  are  un- 
just in  this  affair." 

"  Oh,  oh  !  "  cried  the  father,  "  is  that  the  way  you 
approach  me  ?  " 

"What  harm  does  the  ringing  of  bells  over  there 
do  to  us  ?  The  little  summer-house  is  pretty,  and  when 
we  sit  in  the  garden  in  the  evening,  and  there  is  a  breeze, 
and  the  bells  tinkle  gently,  it  sounds  just  lovely — it  is 
like  Mozart's  Magic  Flute" 

"Our  street  is  not  an  opera-house,"  the  father 
retorted  sharply,  "but  a  public  thoroughfare  ;  and  when 
my  pet  dogs  bark  you  can  equally  well  pursue  your 
theatrical  ideas,  and  imagine  that  you  are  in  the 
Wolf's  Den,  in  the  Freischiitz." 

"No,  my  father,"  answered  the  daughter,  eagerly, 
"you  are  unjust  towards  these  people  ;  for  you  wish 
to  spite  them,  and  that  vexes  me  to  my  heart's  core. 
It  is  not  worthy  of  my  father." 

"Yet  you  must  bear  it,"  he  replied,  doggedly,  "for 
this  is  a  quarrel  between  men.  Police  regulations  set- 
tle such  affairs,  and  your  verses  are  altogether  out  of 
place.  As  regards  the  names,  it  is  possible  that  other 
words  like  Adolar,  Ingomar,  and  Marquis  Posa,  might 
sound  better  to  you  women-folk.  But  this  is  no  reason 
for  me  ;  my  names  are  practical.  In  the  matter  of 
flowers  and  books,  I  will  do  much  to  please  you  but  in 
the  matter  of  dogs  I  cannot  take  poetry  into  consid- 
eration."  So  saying,  he  turned  his  back  upon  his 
daughter,  to  avoid  protracting  the  dispute. 

Laura,  however,  hastened  to  her  mother's  room, 
and  the  ladies  took  counsel  together. 

"The  noise  was  bad  enough,"  complained  Laura, 
"  but  the  names  are  terrible.  I  cannot  say  those  words 


144  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

for  my  life,  and  you  ought  not  to  allow  our  servant  to 
do  so,  either." 

"Dear  child,"  answered  the  experienced  mother, 
"  one  has  to  pass  through  much  in  this  world  which  is 
unpleasant,  but  what  grieves  me  most  is  the  wanton 
attacks  upon  the  dignity  of  women  in  their  own  houses. 
I  shall  say  no  more  on  the  subject.  I  agree  with  you, 
that  both  the  names  by  which  the  dogs  are  called  are 
an  insult  to  our  neighbor.  But  if  your  father  were  to 
discover  that  behind  his  back  we  called  them  Phrebus 
and  Azor,  it  would  make  matters  worse." 

"No  one  at  least  must  utter  those  other  names 
who  cares  for  my  friendship,"  said  Laura,  decidedly, 
and  entered  into  the  court-yard. 

Gabriel  was  employing  his  leisure  in  making  obser- 
vations on  the  new  comers.  He  was  frequently  at- 
tracted to  the  dogs'  kennel  in  order  to  establish  the 
certainty  of  the  earthly  nature  of  the  strangers. 

"What  is  your  opinion  ?  "  asked  Laura,  approach- 
ing him. 

"I  have  my  opinion,"  answered  the  servant,  peer- 
ing into  the  interior  of  the  shed,  "  namely,  that  there  is 
something  mysterious  about  them.  Did  you  remark 
the  song  of  those  ravens  the  other  night  ?  No  real  dog 
barks  like  that ;  they  whine  and  moan  and  occasionally 
groan  and  speak  like  little  children.  They  eat  like  other 
dogs,  but  their  mode  of  life  is  unusual.  See,  how  they 
cower  down,  as  if  they  had  been  struck  on  the  mouth, 
because  the  sun  shines  on  them.  And  then,  dear 
young  lady,  the  names  !  " 

Laura  looked  with  curiosity  at  the  beasts. 

"We  will  alter  the  names  secretly,  Gabriel;  this 
one  shall  be  called  Ruddy." 

"  That  would  certainly  be  better  ;  it  would  at  least 


NEW    HOSTILITIES.  145 

not  be  an  insult  to  Mr.  Hahn,  but  only  to  the  tenant 
of  the  basement." 

"  What  do' you  mean  by  that  ?  " 

"  The  porter  who  lives  over  there  is  called  Ruddy." 

"Then,"  decided  Laura,  "the  red  monster  shall 
from  henceforth  be  named  The  Other ;  our  people 
shall  call  him  Andres.*  Tell  this  io  the  workmen  in 
the  factory." 

"Andres  !  "  replied  Gabriel.  "The  name  will  just 
suit  him.  The  neighbors  would  dignify  him  with  the 
name  of  Andreas  if  it  were  not  too  much  honor  to 
him." 

Thus  were  kind  hearts  occupied. in  thwarting  the 
bad  signification  of  the  name.  But  in  vain,  for,  as 
Laura  had  correctly  noted  in  her  diary,  when  the  ball 
of  mischief  has  been  thrown  amongst  men,  it  mer- 
cilessly hits  the  good  as  well  as  the  bad.  The  dog  was 
supplied  with  the  most  inoffensive  name  that  ever  was 
given  ;  but  through  a  wonderful  complication  of  circum- 
stances, which  bid  defiance  to  all  human  sagacity,  it 
happened  that  Mr.  Hahn  himself  bore  the  name  of 
Andreas.  Thus  the  double  name  of  the  animal  became 
a  double  affront  to  the  neighboring  house,  and  bad  and 
good  intentions  mingled  together  in  a  thick,  black  soup 
of  hatred. 

Early  in  the  morning  Mr.  Hummel  appeared  at 
the  door,  and  defiantly,  like  Ajax,  called  the  two  dogs 
by  their  hostile  names.  The  porter,  Ruddy,  heard 
the  call  in  the  cellar,  hastened  to  his  master's  room, 
and  informed  him  of  this  horrible  affront.  Mrs.  Hahn 
endeavored  not  to  believe  it,  and  maintained  that 
they  should,  at  least,  wait  for  some  confirmation. 
This  confirmation  did  not  fail  to  come ;  for  at 

*  Andres  means  "  the  other." 


146  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

noonday  Gabriel  opened  the  door  of  the  place  where 
the  dogs  were  confined,  and  made  the  creatures  come 
out  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour's  sunning  in  the  garden. 
Laura,  who  was  sitting  among  her  flowers,  and  was 
just  looking  out  for  her  secret  ideal — a  famous  singer, 
who,  with  his  glossy  black  hair  and  military  gait  was 
just  passing  by — determined, like  a  courageous  maiden, 
not  to  peer  after  her  favorite  through  the  foliage  of  the 
vine  arbor,  and  turned  toward  the  dogs.  In  order  to 
accustom  the  red  one  to  his  new  name,  she  enticed 
him  with  a  bit  of  cake,  and  called  him  several  times 
by  the  unfortunate  name,  ''Andres."  At  the  same 
moment,  Dorchen  rushed  to  Mrs.  Hahn,  saying  :  "It 
is  true ;  now  even  Miss  Laura  calls  the  dog  by  the 
Christian  name  of  our  master." 

Mrs.  Hahn  stepped  to  the  window  much  shocked,  and 
herself  heard  the  name  of  her  dear  husband.  She  re- 
treated quickly,  for  this  insult  from  her  neighbors 
brought  tears  into  her  eyes,  and  she  sought  for  her 
pocket-handkerchief  to  wipe  them  awayunperceived  by 
her  maid.  Mrs.  Hahn  was  a  good  woman,  calm  and 
agreeable,  with  a  tendency  to  plumpness  and  an  inclina- 
tion quietly  to  do  anything  for  the  sake  of  peace.  But 
this  heartlessness  of  the  daughter  roused  her  anger. 
She  instantly  fetched  her  cloak  from  the  closet,  and 
went  with  the  utmost  determination  across  the  street  to 
the  garden  of  the  hostile  neighbors. 

Laura  looked  up  astonished  from  the  hideous  dogs 
to  the  unexpected  visitor,  who  came  toward  her  with 
dignified  steps. 

"I  come  to  complain,  young  lady!"  began  Mrs. 
Hahn,  without  further  greeting.  "  The  insults  that 
have  been  heaped  upon  my  husband  from  this  house 
are  insupportable.  For  your  father's  conduct  you  are 


NEW    HOSTILITIES. 


147 


not  responsible ;  but  I  think  it  shocking  that  a  young 
girl  like  you  should  also  join  in  these  outrages  !  " 

"What  do  you  mean,  Mrs.  Hahn?"  asked  Laura, 
excitedly. 

' '  I  mean  the  affront  of  giving  a  man's  name  to  dogs. 
You  call  your  dogs  by  all  my  husband's  names." 

"That  I  have  never  done,"  replied  Laura. 

"Do  not  deny  it,"  cried  out  Mrs. Hahn. 

"  I  never  speak  an  untruth,"  said  the  girl  proudly. 

"My  husband's  name  is  Andreas  Hahn,  and  what 
you  call  this  beast  is  heard  by  the  whole  neighbor- 
hood." 

Laura's  pride  was  roused.  "  This  is  a  misunder- 
standing, and  the  dog  is  not  so  called.  What  you  say 
is  unjust." 

"  How  is  it  unjust?"  returned  Mrs.  Hahn.  "In 
the  morning  the  father,  and  in  the  afternoon  the  daugh- 
ter call  him  so." 

A  heavy  weight  fell  on  Laura's  heart ;  she  felt  her- 
self dragged  down  into  an  abyss  of  injustice  and  in- 
jury. Her  father's  conduct  paralyzed  her  energies, 
and  tears  burst  from  her  eyes. 

"I  see  that  you  at  least  feel  the  wrong  you  are 
committing,  "continued  Mrs.  Hahn,  more  calmly.  "Do 
not  do  it  again.  Believe  me,  it  is  easy  to  pain  others, 
but  it  is  a  sorry  business,  and  my  poor  husband  and 
I  have  not  deserved  it  from  you.  We  have  seen  you 
grow  up  before  our  eyes  ;  and  even  though  we  have 
had  no  intercourse  with  your  parents,  we  have  always 
been  pleased  with  you,  and  no-one  in  our  house  has 
ever  wished  you  ill.  You  do  not  know  what  a  good  man 
Mr.  Hahn  is,  but  still  you  ought  not  to  have  behaved 
so.  Since  we  have  dwelt  here  we  have  experienced 


148 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


many  vexations  from  this  house  ;  but  that  you  should 
share  your  father's  views  pains  me  most." 

Laura  endeavored  in  vain  to  dry  her  tears.  "I 
repeat  to  you  that  you  do  me  injustice  ;  more  I  cannot 
say  in  self-justfication,  nor  will  I.  You  have  grieved 
me  more  than  you  know,  and  I  am  satisfied  that  I  have 
a  clear  conscience. " 

With  these  words  she  hastened  into  the  house,  and 
Mrs.  Hahn  returned  home,  uncertain  as  to  the  result 
of  her  visit. 

Laura  paced  up  and  down  her  little  room  wring- 
ing her  hands.  Innocent  and  yet  guilty  in  spite  of  her 
good  will,  wounded  to  the  quick,  dragged  into  a  fam- 
ily feud,  the  unhappy  results  of  which  could  not  be 
foreseen,  she  reviewed  the  events  of  the  past  day  in 
her  excited  mind.  At  last  she  seated  herself  at  her 
little  writing-table,  took  out  her  journal,  and  confided 
her  sorrows  to  this  silent  friend  bound  in  violet  leather. 
She  sought  comfort  from  the  souls  of  others  who  had 
borne  up  nobly  under  similar  griefs,  and  at  last  found 
the  confirmation  of  her  experience  in  the  expressive 
well-known  passage  of  Goethe's  Faust : 

"  Reason  doth  folly,  good  doth  evil  grow  ; 

The  child  must  reap  the  mischief  that  the  fathers  sow." 

Had  she  not  wished  to  do  what  was  reasonable  and 
kind,  and  had  not  folly  and  evil  arisen  from  it  ?  And 
had  not  misfortune  befallen  her  without  her  fault 
merely  because  she  was  a  child  of  the  house  ?  With 
this  sentence  she  closed  a  passionate  effusion.  But  in 
ordernot  to  appearto  her  conscience  devoid  of  affection, 
the  poor  child  wrote  immediately  underneath  these 
words:  "  My  dear,  good  father. "  Then  she  closed 
the  book,  feeling  more  comforted. 

But  the  severest  humiliation  to  her  was  the  feeling 


NEW    HOSTILITIES. 


that  she  should  be  judged  unjustly  by  the  people 
over  the  way;  and  she  folded  her  arms  and  thought 
how  she  could  justify  herself.  She,  indeed,  could  do 
nothing  ;  but  there  was  a  worthy  man  who  was  the 
confidant  of  every  one  in  the  house,  who  had  cured 
her  canary  bird  when  ill,  and  removed  a  stain  from  the 
nose  of  her  little  bust  of  Schiller.  She  resolved,  there- 
fore, to  tell  only  the  faithful  Gabriel  what  Mrs.  Hahn 
had  said,  and  not  a  word  to  her  mother  unless  obliged 
to  do  so. 

It  happened  that  toward  evening  Gabriel  and  Dor- 
chen  entered  into  conversation  in  the  street.  Dorchen 
began  to  make  bitter  complaints  of  the  spitefulness  of 
the  Hummels,  but  Gabriel  earnestly  advised  her  not 
to  allow  herself  to  be  dragged  into  these  dis- 
putes. Said  he,  "  there  must  be  some  who  take  a  neu- 
tral stand.  Be  an  angel,  Dorchen,  and  bring  peace 
and  good  will  into  the  house  ;  for  the  daughter  is  in- 
nocent. "  Whereupon  the  history  of  giving  the  name 
was  spoken  of,  and  Laura  honorably  acquitted. 

Then,  when  Gabriel,  a  little  later,  incidentally  re- 
marked to  Laura  :  "  This  matter  is  settled  ;  and  Mr. 
Hahn  has  said  that  it  had  at  once  appeared  to  him  im- 
probable that  you  should  be  so  ill-disposed  toward  him,  " 
—  a  heavy  weight  fell  from  her  heart,  and  again 
her  soft  song  sounded  through  the  house.  And  yet 
she  did  not  feel  satisfied,  for  the  annoyance  to  the 
neighboring  house  caused  by  her  father's  anger  still 
continued.  Alas  !  she  could  not  restrain  that  violent 
spirit,  but  she  must  endeavor  secretly  to  atone  for  his 
injustice.  She  pondered  over  this  while  undressing 
late  at  night  ;  but  when  in  bed,  after  entertaining  and 
rejecting  many  projects,  the  right  idea  suddenly  struck 
her;  she  jumped  up  at  once,  lighted  her  candle,  and 


JCQ  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

ran  in  her  night-dress  to  the  writing-table.  There  she 
emptied  her  purse,  and  counted  over  the  new  dol- 
lars that  her  father  had  given  her  at  Christmas  and  on 
her  birthday.  These  dollars  she  determined  to  spend 
in  a  secret  method  of  reparation.  Highly  pleased,  she 
took  the  precious  purse  to  bed  with  her,  laid  it  under 
her  pillow,  and  slept  peacefully  upon  it,  although 
the  spectral  dogs  raged  round  the  house  in  their  wild 
career,  horribly  and  incessantly. 

The  following  morning  Laura  wrote  in  large,  stiff 
characters,  on  an  empty  envelope,  Mr.  Hahn's  name 
and  address,  and  affixed  a  seal  on  which  was  the 
impression  of  a  violet  with  the  inscription,  "I  conceal . 
myself,"  and  put  it  in  her  pocket.  On  her  way  to  town 
to  make  some  purchases  she  stopped  at  a  hot-house, 
the  proprietor  of  which  was  unknown  to  her.  There 
she  bought  a  bushy  plant  of  dwarf  orange,  full  of  flow- 
ers and  golden  fruit — a  splendid  specimen  of  the  green- 
house ;  with  a  beating  heart,  she  drove  in  a  closed 
cab,  till  she  found  a  porter,  to  whom  she  gave  an  ex- 
traordinary gratuity,  and  bade  him  leave  the  plant 
and  envelope  at  Mr.  Hahn's  house  without  word  or 
greeting  of  any  kind. 

The  man  performed  the  commission  faithfully. 
Dorchen  discovered  the  plant  in  the  hall,  and  it  caused 
an  agreeable  excitement  in  the  Hahn  family — fruitless 
imaginations,repeated  inspection,  and  vain  conjectures. 
When  at  noon.  Laura  peeped  through  the  arbor  into 
the  garden,  she  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  the  orange 
plant  occupying  a  prominent  place  in  front  of  the  white 
Muse.  Beautifully  did  the  white  and  gold  of  the 
shrub  glitter  across  the  street.  Laura  stood  long  be- 
hind the  branches,  unconsciously  folding  her  hands. 
Her  soul  was  unburdened  of  the  injustice,  and  she 


[7 


TACITUS    AGAIN.  151 

turned  from  the  hostile  house  with  a  feeling  of  proud 
satisfaction. 

Meanwhile  there  was  a  complaint  issued  and  a  suit 
was  pending  between  the  two  houses,  which  was  seri- 
ously increased  on  that  very  day  by  the  adoption  of 
the  dogs'  names  "  Fighthahn"  and  "Spitehahn." 

Thus  the  peace  in  house  and  neighborhood  was 
still  disturbed.  At  first  the  pealing  of  bells  had  excited 
public  opinion  against  Mr.  Hahn,  but  this  was  entirely 
altered  by  the  introduction  of  the  dogs  :  the  whole 
street  went  over  to  the  man  of  straw  ;  the  man  of  felt 
had  all  the  world  against  him.  But  Mr.  Hummel  cared 
little  for  this.  In  the  evening  he  sat  in  the  garden  on 
the  upturned  boat,  looking  proudly  at  the  neighboring 
house,  while  Fighthahn  and  the  other  dog  sat  at  his 
feet  blinking  at  the  moon,  who  in  her  usual  way  looked 
down  maliciously  on  Mr.  Hummel,  Mr.  Hahn,  and  all 
the  rest  of  the  world. 

It  happened  on  the  following  night  that  amidst  the 
barking  of  the  dogs  and  the  light  of  the  moon  all  the 
bells  were  torn  down  from  the  temple  of  Mr.  Hahn 
and  stolen. 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

\ 

TACITUS  AGAIN. 

THERE  is  a  common  saying  that  all  lost  things  lie 
under  the  claws  of  the  Evil  One.  Whoever  searches  for 
a  thing  must  cry  :  "Devil,  take  thy  paws  away."  Then 
it  suddenly  appears  before  the  eyes  of  men.  It  was 
so  easy  to  find.  They  have  gone  round  it  a  hundred 
times.  They  have  looked  above  and  below,  and  have 
sought  it  in  the  most  improbable  places,  and  never 
thought  of  that  which  was  nearest  them.  Undoubtedly 


•p 


152 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


it  was  so  with  the  manuscript ;  it  lay  under  the  clutches 
of  the  Evil  One  or  of  some  hobgoblin,  quite  close  to 
our  friends.  If  they  were  to  stretch  out  their  hands 
they  might  lay  hold  of  it.  The  acquisition  was  only 
hindered  by  one  consideration,  by  the  single  question, 
Where  ?  Whether  this  delay  would  involve  more  or  less 
suffering  for  both  the  scholars  was  still  doubtful.  Never- 
theless, they  might  overcome  even  this  uncertainty ; 
the  main  point  was,  that  the  manuscript  really  existed 
and  lay  somewhere.  In  short,  matters  went  on  the 
whole  as  well  as  possible.  The  only  thing  missing 
was  the  manuscript. 

"I  see,  "said  the  Doctor  one  day  to  his  friend, 
"  that  you  are  strenuously  exerting  yourself  to  educate 
and  fashion  the  ideas  of  the  older  people  of  the  house- 
hold. I  put  my  hopes  in  the  souls  of  the  younger  gen- 
eration. Hans,  the  eldest,  is  very  far  from  sharing  the 
views  of  the  father  and  sister ;  he  shows  an  interest  in 
the  old  treasure,  and  if  we  ourselves  should  not  succeed 
in  making  the  discovery,  at  some  future  period  he  will 
not  spare  the  old  walls." 

In  conjunction  with  Hans,  the  Doctor  secretly 
resumed  his  investigations.  In  quiet  hours,  when  the 
Proprietor  was  uneuspectingly  riding  about  his  farm, 
and  the  Professor  working  in  his  room  or  sitting  in 
the  honeysuckle  arbor,  the  Doctor  went  prying  about 
the  house.  In  the  smock-frock  of  a  laborer,  which 
Hans  had  brought  to  his  room,  he  searched  the  dusty 
corners  of  the  house  high  and  low.  More  than  once 
he  frightened  the  female  servants  of  the  household  by 
suddenly  emerging  from  behind  some  old  bin  in  the 
cellar,  or  by  appearing  astride  on  one  of  the  rafters  of 
the  roof.  In  the  dairy  a  hole  had  been  dug  for  the 
forming  of  an  ice-pit ;  one  day  when  the  laborers  had 


TACITUS    AGAIN.  153 

gone  away  at  noon,  Mademoiselle,  the  housekeeper, 
passed  close  to  the  uncovered  pit,  suspecting  nothing. 
Suddenly,  she  beheld  a  head  without  a  body,  with 
fiery  eyes  and  bristly  hair,  which  slowly  groped  along 
the  ground  and  which  turned  its  face  to  her  with  a  de- 
risive, fiendish  laugh.  She  uttered  a  shrill  cry  and 
rushed  into  the  kitchen,  where  she  sank  fainting  on  a 
stool  and  was  only  revived  by  the  copious  sprinkling 
of  water  and  encouraging  words.  At  dinner  she  was 
so  much  troubled  that  every  one  was  struck  by  her 
uneasiness.  But  at  last  it  appeared  that  the  fiendish 
head  was  to  be  found  on  the  shoulders  of  her  neigh- 
•  bor,  the  Doctor,  who  had  secretly  descended  into  the 
hole  to  examine  the  masonry. 

It  was  on  this  occasion  that  the  Doctor  discovered, 
with  some  degree  of  malicious  pleasure,  that  the  hos- 
pitable roof  which  protected  him  and  the  manuscript 
from  the  blast  and  storm  stood  over  an  acknowledged 
haunted  house.  There  were  strange  creakings  in  the 
old  building.  Spirits  were  frequently  seen,  and  the 
accounts  only  differed  as  to  whether  there  was  a  man 
in  a  gray  cowl,  a  child  in  a  white  shirt,  or  a  cat  as 
large  as  an  ass.  Every  one  knew  that  there  was  in 
all  parts  a  knocking,  rattling,  thundering,  and  invisible 
throwing  of  stones.  Sometimes  all  the  authority  of 
the  Proprietor  and  his  daughter  was  necessary  to  pre- 
vent the  outbreak  of  a  panic  among  the  servants. 
Even  our  friends,  in  the  quiet  of  the  night,  heard  un- 
accountable sounds,  groans,  thundering  noises,  and 
startling  knocks  on  the  wall.  These  annoyances  of  the 
house  the  Doctor  explained  to  the  satisfaction  of  the 
Proprietor  by  his  theory  of  the  old  walls.  He  made  it 
clear  that  many  generations  of  weasels,  rats,  and  mice 
had  bored  through  the  solid  walls  and  tunnelled  out  a 


154  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

system  of  covered  passages  and  strongholds.  Conse- 
quently, every  social  amusement  and  every  domestic 
disturbance  which  took  place  among  the  inmates  of 
the  wall  was  plainly  perceptible.  But  the  Doctor 
listened  with  secret  vexation  to  the  muffled  noises  of 
the  denizens  of  the  wall.  For  if  they  rushed  and 
bustled  thus  indiscriminately  around  the  manuscript, 
they  threatened  to  render  difficult  the  future  investiga- 
tions of  science.  Whenever  he  heard  a  violent  gnaw- 
ing he  could  not  help  thinking  they  were  again  eating 
away  a  line  of  the  manuscript,  which  would  make  a 
multitude  of  conjectures  necessary  ;  and  it  was  not  by 
gnawing  alone  that  this  colony  of  mice  would  disfigure 
the  manuscript  that  lay  underneath  them. 

But  the  Doctor  was  compensated  by  other  dis- 
coveries for  the  great  patience  which  was  thus  de- 
manded of  him.  He  did  not  confine  his  activity  to 
the  house  and  adjoining  buildings.  He  searched  the 
neighborhood  for  old  popular  traditions  which  here 
and  there  lingered  in  the  spinning-room  and  worked  in 
the  shaky  heads  of  old  beldames.  Through  the  wife  of 
one  of  the  farm-laborers,  he  secretly  made  the  ac- 
quaintance of  an  old  crone  well  versed  in  legendary 
lore  in  the  neighboring  village.  After  the  old  woman 
had  recovered  from  her  first  alarm  at  the  title  of  the 
Doctor  and  the  fear  that  he  had  come  to  take  her  to  task 
for  incompetent  medical  practice,  she  sang  to  him, 
with  trembling  voice,  the  love  songs  of  her  youth,  and 
related  to  him  more  than  her  hearer  could  note  down. 
Every  evening  the  Doctor  brought  home  sheets  of 
paper  full  of  writing  and  soon  found  in  his  collection 
all  the  well-known  characters  of  our  popular  legends 
—wild  hunters,  wrinkled  hags,  three  white  maidens, 
many  monks,  some  shadowy  water  pixies,  sprites  who 


TACITUS    AGAIN. 


J55 


appeared  in  stories  as  artisan  lads,  but  undeniably 
sprang  from  a  merman ;  and  finally  many  tiny  dwarfs. 
Sometimes  Hans  accompanied  him  on  these  excur- 
sions to  the  country  people,  in  order  to  prevent  these 
visits  from  becoming  known  to  the  father  and  daughter. 
Now,  it  was  not  impossible  that  here  and  there  a  cave 
or  an  old  well  was  supplied  with  spirits  without  any 
foundation  ;  for,  when  the  wise  women  of  the  village 
observed  how  much  the  Doctor  rejoiced  in  such  com- 
munications, the  old  inventive  power  of  the  people 
awoke  from  a  long  slumber.  But,  on  the  whole,  both 
parties  treated  each  other  with  truth  and  firmness, 
and,  besides,  the  Doctor  was  not  a  man  who  could 
easily  be  deceived. 

Once  when  he  was  returning  to  the  Manor  from 
one  of  these  visits  he  met  the  laborer's  wife  on  a  lonely 
foot-path.  She  looked  cautiously  about  and  at  last 
declared  that  she  had  something  to  impart  to  him  if 
he  would  not  betray  her  to  the  Proprietor.  The  Doc- 
tor promised  inviolable  secrecy.  Upon  this  the  woman 
stated,  that  in  the  cellar  of  the  manor-house,  on  the 
eastern  side,  in  the  right  hand  corner,  there  was  a 
stone,  marked  with  three  crosses  ;  behind  that  lay  the 
treasure.  She  had  heard  this  from  her  grandfather, 
who  had  it  from  his  father,  who  had  been  a  servant  at 
the  Manor  ;  and  at  that  time  the  then  Crown  Inspector 
had  wished  to  raise  the  treasure,  but  when  they  went 
in  the  cellar  for  that  purpose,  there  had  been  such  a 
fearful  crash  and  such  a  noise  that  they  ran  away  in 
terror.  But  that  the  treasure  was  there  was  cer- 
tain, for  she  had  herself  touched  the  stone,  and  the 
signs  were  distinctly  engraved  on  it.  The  cellar  was 
now  used  for  wine,  and  the  stone  was  hidden  by  a 
wooden  trestle. 


156  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

The  Doctor  received  this  communication  with  com 
posure,  but  determined  to  set  about  investigating  by 
himself.  He  did  not  say  a  word  either  to  the  Professor 
or  to  his  friend  Hans,  but  watched  for  an  opportunity. 
His  informant  sometimes  herself  carried  the  wine 
which  was  always  placed  before  the  guests,  to  the  cel- 
lar and  back.  The  next  morning  he  followed  her  boldly; 
the  woman  did  not  say  a  word  as  he  entered  the  cellar 
behind  her,  but  pointed  fearfully  to  a  corner  in  the 
wall.  The  Doctor  seized  the  lamp,  shoved  half  a 
dozen  flasks  from  their  places  and  groped  about  for 
the  stone  ;  it  was  a  large  hewn  stone  with  three  cros- 
ses. He  looked  significantly  at  the  woman — she  after- 
wards related  in  the  strictest  confidence  that  the  glasses 
before  his  eyes  shone  at  this  moment  so  fearfully  in  the 
light  of  the  lamp,  that  she  had  become  quite  terrified 
— then  he  went  silently  up  again,  determined  to  take 
advantage  of  this  discovery  on  the  first  opportunity  in 
dealing  with  the  Proprietor. 

But  a  still  greater  surprise  awaited  the  Doctor ; 
his  quiet  labor  was  supported  by  the  good  deceased 
Brother  Tobias  himself.  The  friends  descended  one 
day  to  Rossau,  accompanied  by  the  Proprietor,  who 
had  business  in  the  town.  He  conducted  his  guests 
to  the  Burgomaster,  whom  he  requested  to  lay  before 
the  gentlemen,  as  trustworthy  men,  whatever  old 
writings  were  in  the  possession  of  the  authorities. 
The  Burgomaster,  who  was  a  respectable  tanner,  put 
on  his  coat  and  took  the  learned  men  to  the  old  mon- 
astery. There  was  not  much  to  be  seen ;  only  the 
outer  walls  of  the  old  building  remained  ;  the  minor 
officials  of  the  crown  dwelt  in  the  new  parts.  Con- 
cerning the  archives  of  the  council  the  Burgomaster 
suggested  as  probable  that  there  would  not  be  much 


TACITUS    AGAIN.  157 

found  in  them  ;  in  this  matter  he  recommended  the 
gentlemen  to  the  town-clerk,  and  went  himself  to  the 
club  in  order,  after  his  onerous  duties,  to  enjoy  a  quiet 
little  game  of  cards. 

The  town-clerk  bowed  respectfully  to  his  literary 
colleagues,  laid  hold  of  a  rusty  bunch  of  keys,  and 
opened  the  small  vault  of  the  city  hall,  where  the  an- 
cient records,  covered  with  thick  dust,  awaited  the 
time  in  which  their  quiet  life  was  to  be  ended  under 
the  stamping  machine  of  a  paper  mill.  The  town-clerk 
had  some  knowledge  of  the  papers ;  he  understood 
fully  the  importance  of  the  communication  which  was 
expected  from  him,  but  assured  them  with  perfect  truth 
that,  owing  to  two' fires  in  the  town  and  the  disorders 
of  former  times,  every  old  history  had  been  lost.  There 
were  also  no  records  to  be  found  in  any  private  house  ; 
only  in  the  printed  chronicles  of  a  neighboring  town 
some  notices  were  preserved  concerning  the  fate  of 
Rossau  in  the  Thirty  Years'  War.  After  the  war,  the 
place  had  been  left  a  heap  of  ruins  and  almost  unin- 
habited. Since  that  time  the  town  had  lived  along 
without  a  history,  and  the  town-clerk  assured  them 
that  nothing  was  known  here  of  the  olden  time,  and 
no  one  cared  about  it.  Perhaps  something  about  the 
town  might  be  learnt  at  the  Capital. 

Our  friends  continued  to  walk  unweariedly  from 
one  intelligent  man  to  another,  making  inquiries,  as 
in  the  fairy  tale,  after  the  bird  with  the  golden  feather. 
Two  little  gnomes  had  known  nothing,  but  now  there 
remained  a  third — so  they  went  to  the  Roman  Catholic 
priest.  A  little  old  gentleman  received  them  with  pro- 
found bows.  The  Professor  explained  to  him,  that  he 
was  seeking  information  concerning  the  ultimate  fate 
of  the  monastery — above  all,  what  had  happened  in 


158  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

his  closing  years  to  the  last  monk,  the  venerable  To- 
bias Bachhuber. 

"  In  those  days  no  register  of  deaths  was  required," 
replied  the  ecclesiastic.  "Therefore,  my  dear  sirs, 
I  cannot  promise  to  give  you  any  information.  Yet,  if 
it  is  only  a  question  of  yourselves,  and  you  do  not  wish 
to  extract  anything  from  the  old  writings  disadvanta- 
geous to  the  Church,  I  am  willing  to  show  you  the 
oldest  of  the  existing  books."  He  went  into  a  room 
and  brought  out  a  long  thin  book,  the  edges  of  which 
had  been  injured  by  the  mould  of  the  damp  room. 
"Here  are  some  notices  of  my  predecessors  who  rest 
with  the  Lord ;  perhaps  they  may  be  useful  to  the  gen- 
tlemen. More  I  cannot  do,  because  there  is  nothing 
else  of  the  kind  existing." 

On  the  introductory  page  there  was  a  register  of 
the  ecclesiastical  dignitaries  of  the  place  in  Latin.  One 
of  the  first  notices  was  :  "In  the  year  of  our  Lord 
1637,  and  in  the  month  of  May,  our  venerated  brother 
Tobias  Bachhuber,  the  last  monk  of  this  monastery, 
died  of  the  plague.  The  Lord  be  merciful  to  him." 

The  Professor  showed  the  passage  silently  to  his 
friend  the  Doctor,  who  wrote  down  the  Latin  words  ; 
they  then  returned  the  book  with  thanks  and  took 
their  leave. 

"The  manuscript  after  all  lies  in  the  house,"  said 
the  Professor,  as  they  went  along  the  street.  The 
Doctor  thought  of  the  three  crosses  and  laughed  quietly 
to  himself ;  he  had  in  no  way  assented  to  the  tactics 
which  his  friend  thought  fit  to  adopt  for  the  discovery 
of  the  manuscript.  When  the  Professor  maintained 
that  their  only  hope  rested  on  the  sympathy  which 
they  might  by  degrees  awaken  in  their  host,  the  Doc- 
tor entertained  the  suspicion  that  his  friend  was  brought 


Cr 


^ 


TACITUS    AGAIN.  159 

to  this  slow  way  of  carrying  on  the  war  not  by  pure 
zeal  for  the  manuscript. 

The  Proprietor,  however,  maintained  an  obstinate 
silence  regarding  the  manuscript.  If  the  Doctor 
threw  out  any  hint  upon  the  subject,  the  host  made  a 
wry  grimace  and  immediately  changed  the  conversa- 
tion. It  was  necessary  to  put  an  end  to  this.  The 
Doctor  now  determined  to  insist  upon  a  decision  be- 
fore his  departure.  When,  therefore,  they  were  sit- 
ting together  in  the  garden  in  the  evening,  and  the 
Proprietor  was  looking  cheerfully  and  calmly  on  his 
fruit  trees,  the  Doctor  began  the  attack  : 

"I  cannot  leave  this  place,  my  hospitable  friend, 
without  reminding  you  of  our  contract." 

"Of  what  contract?"  inquired  their  host,  like  one 
who  did  not  remember  it. 

"Regarding  the  manuscript,"  continued  the  Doc- 
tor, with  emphasis,  "which  lies  concealed  in  this 
place." 

Indeed  !  why  you  yourself  said  that  every  place 
sounds  hollow.  So  we  would  have  to  tear  down  the 
house  from  roof  to  cellar.  I  should  think  we  might 
wait  till  next  spring,  when  you  come  to  us  again ;  for 
we  should  be  obliged,  under  these  circumstances,  to 
live  in  the  barns,  which  now  are  full." 

"The  house  may,  for  the  present,  remain  stand- 
ing," said  the  Doctor ;  "but  if  you  still  think  that  the 
monks  took  away  their  monastic  property,  there  is 
one  circumstance  which  goes  against  your  view.  We 
have  discovered  at  Rossau  that  the  worthy  friar,  who 
had  concealed  the  things  here  in  April,  died  of  the 
pestilence  as  early  as  May,  according  to  the  church 
register  ;  here  is  a  '  copy  of  the  entry.' " 

The   Proprietor  looked  at  the  Doctor's  memoran- 


p 


1  60  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

dum  book,  closed  it  and  said:  "Then  his  brother 
monks  have  taken  away  the  property.  " 

"That  is  scarcely  possible,"  replied  the  Doctor, 
"for  he  was  the  last  of  his  order  in  the  monastery." 

"  Then  some  of  the  city  people  have  taken  it." 

"But  the  inhabitants  of  the  town  abandoned  it 
then,  and  the  place  lay  for  years  desolate,  in  ruins  and 
uninhabited." 

"  Humph  !  "  began  the  Proprietor,  in  good  humor  ; 
"the  learned  gentlemen  are  strict  creditors  and  know 
how  to  insists  upon  their  rights.  Tell  me  straightfor- 
wardly what  you  want  of  me.  You  must,  first  of  all, 
point  out  to  me  some  place  that  appears  suspicious, 
not  only  to  you,  but  also  to  the  judgment  of  others  ; 
and  that  you  cannot  do  with  any  certainty.  " 

"  I  know  of  such  a  place,"  answered  the  Doctor, 
boldly,  "and  I  wish  to  suggest  to  you  that  the  treas- 
ure lies  there." 

The  Professor  and  the  Proprietor  looked  on  him 
with  astonishment. 

"  Follow  me  into  the  cellar,"  cried  the  Doctor. 

A  candle  was  lighted  ;  the  Doctor  led  the  way  to 
the  place  where  the  wine  lay. 

"What  gives  you  such  victorious  confidence?" 
inquired  the  Professor,  on  the  way,  in  a  low  voice. 

"I  suspect  that  you  have  your  secrets,"  replied  the 
Doctor  ;  "  permit  me  to  have  mine." 

He  quickly  removed  the  bottles  from  the  corner, 
threw  the  light  on  the  stone,  and  knocked  on  the  wall 
with  a  large  key. 

"  The  place  is  hollow  and  the  stone  has  a  peculiar 
mark." 

"It  is  true,"  said  the  Proprietor  ;  "there  is  an 
empty  space  behind  it  ;  it  is  certainly  not  small.  But 


TACITUS    AGAIN.  T6l 

the  stone  is  one  of  the  foundation  stones  of  the  house, 
and  has  not  the  appearance  of  ever  having  been  re- 
moved from  its  place." 

"  After  so  long  a  time,  it  would  be  difficult  to  de- 
termine that,"  rejoined  the  Doctor. 

The  Proprietor  examined  the  wall  himself. 

"A  large  slab  lies  over  it.  It  would,  perhaps,  be 
possible  to  raise  the  marked  stone  from  its  place."  He 
considered  for  a  moment,  and  then  continued  :  "  I  see 
I  must  let  you  have  your  own  way.  I  will  thus  make 
compensation  for  the  first  hour  of  our  acquaintance, 
which  has  always  lain  heavy  on  my  conscience.  As 
we  three  are  here  in  the  cellar  like  conspirators,  we 
will  enter  into  an  agreement.  I  will  at  once  do  what  I 
consider  to  be  very  useless.  In  return,  whenever  you 
speak  or  write  upon  the  subject,  you  must  not  refuse 
to  bear  testimony  that  I  have  given  in  to  every  reason- 
able wish." 

"We  shall  see  what  can  be  done,"  replied  the 
Doctor. 

"Very  well.  In  the  stone  quarry  at  the  extremity 
of  my  property  I  have  some  extra  hands  at  work ;  they 
shall  remove  the  stone  and  then  restore  it  to  its  place. 
Thus,  I  hope,  the  affair  will  be  forever  settled.  Use, 
early  in  the  morning  let  the  shelving  be  removed  from 
the  wine-cellar." 

The  following  day  the  stone-masons  came,  and  the 
three  gentlemen  and  Use  descended  into  the  cellar, 
and  looked  on  curiously  while  the  men  exerted  their 
power  with  pickaxe  and  crowbar  on  the  square  ston-e. 
It  was  placed  upon  the  rock,  and  great  exertions  were 
necessary  to  loosen  it.  But  the  people  themselves  de- 
clared that  there  was  a  great  cavity  behind,  and  worked 
with  a  zeal  that  was  increased  by  the  repute  of  the 


162  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

haunted  house.  At  last  the  stone  was  moved  and  a 
dark  opening  became  visible.  The  spectators  ap- 
proached— both  the  scholars  in  anxious  suspense  ; 
their  host  and  his  daughter  also  full  of  expectation. 
One  of  the  stone-masons  hastily  seized  the  light  and 
held  it  before  the  opening.  A  slight  vapor  came  out ; 
the  man  drew  back  alarmed. 

"There  is  something  white  in  there,"  he  cried, 
full  of  fear  and  hope. 

Use  looked  at  the  Professor,  who  with  difficulty 
controlled  the  excitement  that  worked  in  his  face.  He 
grasped  the  light,  but  she  kept  it  from  him,  and  cried 
out,  anxiously:  •"  Not  you."  She  hastened  to  the 
opening  and  thrust  her  hand  into  the  hollow  space. 
She  laid  hold  of  something  tangible.  A  rattling  was 
heard  ;  she  quickly  withdrew  her  hand  ;  but,  terrified 
threw  what  she  had  laid  hold  of  on  the  ground.  It  was 
a  bone. 

All  gazed  in  horror  at  the  object  on  the  ground. 

"This  is  a  serious  answer  to  your  question,"  ex- 
claimed the  Proprietor.  "We  pay  a  dear  price  for 
our  sport." 

He  took  the  light  and  himself  searched  the  open- 
ing ;  a  heap  of  bones  lay  there.  The  others  stood 
around  in  uncomfortable  silence.  At  last  the  Pro- 
prietor threw  a  skull  out  into  the  cellar,  and  cried  out 
cheerfully,  as  a  man  who  is  relieved  from  painful  feel- 
ing : 

"They  are  the  bones  of  a  dog  !" 

"It  was  a  small  dog,"  assented  the  stone-mason, 
striking  the  bone  with  his  pick.  The  rotten  bone  broke 
in  pieces. 

"A  dog!"  cried  the  Doctor,  delighted,  forgetting 


TACITUS    AGAIN.  163 

for  a  moment  his  blighted  hope.    "That  is  instructive. 
The  foundation  wall  of  this  house  must  be  very  old." 

"I  am  rejoiced  that  you  are  contented  with  this 
discovery,"  replied  the  Proprietor,  ironically. 

But  the  Doctor  would  not  be  disconcerted,  and  re- 
lated how,  in  the  early  middle  ages,  there  had  been  a 
superstitious  custom  of  enclosing  something  living  in 
the  foundation-wall  of  solid  buildings.  The  custom 
descended  from  the  ancient  heathen  times.  The  cases 
were  rare  where  such  things  were  found  in  old  build- 
ings, and  the  skeleton  now  found  was  an  indisputable 
confirmation  of  the  custom. 

"If  it  confirms  your  views,"  said  the  Proprietor, 
"it  confirms  mine  also.  Hasten,  men,  to  replace  the 
stone." 

Then  the  stone-mason  lighted  up  and  felt  again  in 
the  opening  and  declared  that  there  was  nothing  more 
there.  The  workmen  restored  the  stone  to  its  place, 
the  wine  was  replaced  and  the  matter  settled.  The 
Doctor  bore  the  jeering  remarks,  of  which  the  Propri- 
etor was  not  sparing,  with  great  tranquillity,  and  said 
to  him  : 

"What  we  have  discovered  is  certainly  not  much  ; 
but  we  know  now  with  certainty  that  the  manuscript  is 
not  to  be  found  in  this  part  of  your  house,  but  in  some 
other.  I  take  with  me  a  careful  record  of  all  the  hol- 
low places  in  your  house,  and  we  do  not  give  up  our 
claims  in  regard  to  this  discovery  ;  but  we  consider 
you  from  now  on  as  a  man  who  has  borrowed  the 
manuscript  for  his  own  private  use  for  an  indefinite 
time,  and  I  assure  you  that  our  wishes  and  desires  will 
incessantly  hover  about  this  building." 

"  Pray  allow  the  persons  who  dwell  there  to  par- 
ticipate in  your  good  wishes,"  replied  the  Proprietor, 


A 


[7 


164  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

smiling,  and  do  not  forget  that  in  your  researches  after 
the  manuscript  you  have  in  reality  found  the  dog.  For 
the  rest,  I  hope  that  this  discovery  will  free  my  house 
from  the  ill-repute  of  containing  treasures,  and  for  the 
sake  of  this  gain  I  will  be  quite  content  with  the  use- 
less work.  " 

"That  is  the  greatest  error  of  your  life,"  replied 
the  Doctor,  with  grave  consideration  ;  "just  the  re- 
verse will  take  place.  All  people  who  have  an  inclina- 
tion for  hidden  treasure  will  take  the  discovery  in  this 
light,  that  you  are  deficient  in  faith  and  have  not 
employed  the  necessary  solemnities,  therefore  the 
treasure  is  removed  from  your  eyes  and  the  dog  placed 
there  as  a  punishment.  I  know  better  than  you 
what  your  neighbors  will  record  for  posterity.  Tarry 
in  peace  for  your  awakening,  Tacitus  !  Your  most 
steadfast  friend  departs,  and  he  whom  I  leave  behind 
begins  to  make  undue  concessions  to  this  household." 

He  looked  earnestly  at  the  Professor  and  called 
Hans  to  accompany  him  on  a  visit  to  the  village,  in 
order  to  take  a  grateful  leave  of  his  old  crones,  and 
to  obtain  one  of  the  beautiful  songs  of  the  people,  of 
which  he  had  discovered  traces,  to  take  home  with 
him. 

He  was  gone  a  long  time  ;  for  after  the  song  there 
came  to  light  unexpectedly  a  wonderful  story  of  a  cer- 
tain Sir  Dietrich  and  his  horse,  which  breathed  fire. 

When,  toward  evening,  the  Professor  was  looking 
out  for  him,  he  met  Use  who,  with  her  straw  hat  in 
her  hand,  was  prepared  for  a  walk. 

"If  you  like,"  she  said,  "we  will  go  to  meet  your 
friend." 

They   walked   along  a  meadow  between  stubble- 


TACITUS    AGAIN.  165 

fields,  in  which   here  and  there  grass  was  to  be  seen 
peeping  up  amongst  the  stubble. 

"The  autumn  approaches,"  remarked  the  Profes- 
sor ;  "that  is  the  first  sign." 

"Winter-time  is  tedious  to  some  people,"  answered 
Use,  "but  it  puts  us,  like  Till  Eulenspiegel,  in  good 
spirits,  for  we  enjoy  its  repose,  and  think  of  the  ap- 
proaching spring  ;  and  when  the  stormy  winds  rage 
round  us,  and  the  snow  drifts  to  a  man's  height  in  the 
valleys,  we  sit  at  home  in  warmth  and  comfort." 

"With  us  in  the  city  the  winter  passes  away  almost 
unheeded.  The  short  days  and  the  white  roofs  alone 
remind  us  of  it,  for  our  work  goes  on  independently  of 
changing  seasons.  Yet  the  fall  of  the  leaf  has  from 
my  childhood  been  depressing  to  me,  and  in  the  spring 
I  always  desire  to  throw  aside  my  books  and  ramble 
through  the  country  like  a  traveling  journeyman." 

"They  were  standing  by  a  bundle  of  sheaves.  Use 
arranged  some  of  them  as  a  seat,  and  looked  over  the 
fields  to  the  distant  hills. 

"How  different  it  is  with  us  here,"  she  began 
after  a  pause.  "We  are  like  the  birds  which  year 
after  year  joyously  flap  their  wings  and  live  in  content- 
ment. But  you  think  and  care  about  other  times  and 
other  men  that  existed  long  before  us.  You  are  as 
familiar  with  the  past  as  we  are  with  the  rising  of  the 
sun  and  the  forms  of  the  stars.'  If  the  end  of  summer 
is  sorrowful  to  you,  it  is  equally  as  sorrowful  to  me  to 
hear  and  read  of  past  times.  Books  of  history  make 
me  very  sad.  There  is  so  much  unhappiness  on  earth, 
and  it  is  always  the  good  that  come  to  a  sorrowful  end. 
I  then  become  presumptuous,  and  ask  why  God  has 
thus  ordered  it  ?  It  is  really  very  foolish  to  feel  thus. 
But  for  that  reason  I  do  not  like  to  read  history." 


1  66  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"  I  well  understand  that  frame  of  mind,"  answered 
the  Professor.  "  For  wherever  men  seek  to  enforce 
their  will  in  opposition  to  their  time  and  nation,  inva- 
riably they  meet  the  fate  that  befalls  the  weak.  Even 
that  which  the  strongest  accomplish  has  no  permanent 
lastingness.  And  as  men  and  their  works  disappear, 
so  do  peoples.  But  we  should  not  irrevocably  attach 
our  hearts  to  the  fate  of  a  single  man  or  a  single  nation, 
we  should  rather  strive  to  understand  why  they  have 
grown  great,  and  why  they  have  perished,  and  what 
was  the  abiding  gain  that  through  their  life  the  human 
race  has  eternally  won.  The  account  of  their  fortunes 
will  then  become  but  a  veil,  behind  which  we  discover 
the  operation  of  other  forces  and  powers  of  life.  We 
learn  that  in  the  men  that  succumb  in  this  great  strug- 
gle and  in  the  nations  that  decline,  a  still  higher  hidden 
life  dominates,  which  lives  on  creating  and  destroying 
in  rigid  accordance  with  eternal  laws.  To  discover 
the  laws  of  this  higher  life  and  to  feel,  to  experience 
the  blessing  that  this  creating  and  destruction  has 
brought  into  our  existence,  that  is  the  duty  and  the 
ambition  of  the  historian.  From  this  point  of  view 
dissolution  and  death  are  transformation  into  new 
life.  And  they  who  have  learned  thus  to  look  upon 
and  observe  the  past  —  for  them  its  study  increases  their 
security  and  ennobles  their  heart." 

Use  shook  her  head  and  cast  down  her  eyes. 

"And  the  Roman  whose  lost  book  brought  you  to 
us,  and  of  which  you  have  been  talking  to-day  —  is  he 
interesting  to  you  because  he  looked  upon  the  world 
in  the  cheerful  light  that  you  do  ?" 

"No,"  answered  the  Professor,  "it  is  just  the  re- 
verse that  impresses  one  in  his  work.  His  serious 
mind  was  never  borne  aloft  by  joyful  confidence.  The 


A 


TACITUS    AGAIN.  167 

fate  of  his  nation,  the  future  of  men,  lay  like  a  dark 
impenetrable  riddle  heavily  upon  his  soul.  In  the  past 
he  saw  a  better  time,  freer  government,  stronger  men, 
purer  morals.  In  his  own  people  and  his  own  state 
he  saw  decadence  and  dissolution,  which  even  good 
rulers  no  longer  could  retard.  It  is  affecting  to  see 
how  that  high-minded,  thoughtful  man  struggled  in 
doubt.  For  he  doubted  whether  the  horrible  fate  of 
millions  was  the  punishment  of  the  Deity  or  the  con- 
sequence that  no  God  cared  for  the  lot  of  mortals. 
Forebodingly  and  ironically  he  contemplates  the  his- 
tory of  individuals.  To  him  the  course  of  wisdom 
seems  to  be  to  bear  the  inevitable  silently  and  pa- 
tiently. When,  even  for  a  moment,  a  brief  smile  curls 
his  lips,  one  perceives  that  he  is  looking  into  a  hope- 
less desert ;  one  can  imagine  fear  visible  in  his  eyes, 
and  the  rigid  expression  which  remains  on  one  who 
has  been  shaken  to  the  innermost  core  by  deadly  hor- 
rors." 

"  That  is  sad,"  exclaimed  Use. 

"Yes,  it  is  fearful.  And  it  is  difficult  to  understand 
how  any  one  could  endure  life,  burdened  by  such  des- 
pair. The  joyful  satisfaction  of  belonging  to  a  nation 
of  growing  vigor  was  not  then  the  lot  of  either  heathen 
or  Christian.  It  is  the  highest  and  most  indestructible 
happiness  of  man  to  have  confidence  in  that  which 
exists,  and  to  look  with  hope  to  the  future.  And  such 
is  our  life  now.  Much  that  is  weak,  corrupt,  and  per- 
ishable surrounds  us.  But  with  it  all  there  is  growing 
up  an  endless  abundance  of  youthful  vigor.  The  root 
and  the  trunk  of  our  popular  life  are  sound.  Every- 
where do  we  find  sincerity  in  family-life,  respect  for 
morals  and  law,  sturdy  and  solid  labor,  everywhere 
energetic  activity.  In  many  thousands  we  find  the 


1 68  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

consciousness  that  they  are  increasing  the  national 
strength,  and  in  millions  that  are  still  far  behind  them 
the  feeling  that  they  also  are  laboring  to  contribute  to 
our  civilization.  This  is  our  pleasure  and  glory  in 
modern  times,  and  helps  to  make  us  valiant  and  proud. 
We  well  know,  indeed,  that  the  joyful  feeling  of  this 
possession  may  also  be  saddened  ;  for  temporary  dis- 
turbances come  to  every  nation  in  the  course  of  its 
development.  But  its  progress  and  prosperity  of 
thriving  cannot  be  thwarted,  nor  its  career  hindered,  so 
long  as  these  securities  of  power  and  soundness  exist. 
It  is  this  that  gives  happiness  to  him  whose  vocation 
it  is  to  investigate  the  past,  for  he  looks  down  from 
the  salubrious  air  of  the  heights  into  the  darkness  be- 
neath him." 

Use  gazed  on  him  with  wonder  and  admiration, 
but  he  bent  over  the  sheaves  which  were  between 
them  and  continued  with  enthusiasm  : 

"Each  one  of  us  derives  the  judgment  and  habit 
of  mind  with  which  he  regards  the  great  relations  of 
the  world,  from  the  sphere  of  his  own  personal  expe- 
rience. Look  about  you.  Here  at  the  laughing  sum- 
mer landscape,  yonder  at  the  busy  workingmen,  and 
then  at  that  which  lies  nearest  your  heart — at  your 
own  home  and  the  circle  in  which  you  have  grown  to 
womanhood.  How  gentle  the  light,  how  warm  the 
hearts,  how  wise  and  good  and  true  the  minds  that 
surround  you  !  And  think  what  an  inestimable  gain 
it  is  for  me,  to  see  this,  and  to  enjoy  it — enjoy  it  by 
your  side.  And  when,  poring  over  my  books,  I  here- 
after shall  vividly  feel  how  valiant  and  noble,  how 
sturdy  and  true  is  the  life  of  my  countrymen  about 
me,  I  shall  evermore  in  my  inmost  heart  pay,  for  that, 
a  tribute  of  thankfulness  to  you." 


TACITUS    AGAIN.  169 

He  stretched  out  his  hand  across  the  sheaves  ;  Use 
seized  it,  and  clasped  it  between  hers.  A  warm  tear 
fell  upon  it.  She  looked  at  him  with  her  moistened 
eyes,  while  a  world  of  happiness  lay  in  her  countenance. 
Gradually  a  bright  glow  suffused  her  cheeks,  she  rose, 
and  a  look  full  of  devoted  tenderness  fell  upon  him ; 
then  she  walked  hastily  away  from  him  adown  the 
meadow. 

The  Professor  remained  leaning  against  the  sheaves. 
The  meadow-larks  on  the  tips  of  the  ears  of  grain  over 
his  head  warbled  joyfully.  He  pressed  his  cheek 
against  thie  stack  which  half  concealed  him  ;  thus,  in 
happy  forgetfulness,  he  watched  the  girl  descending 
toward  the  distant  laborers. 

When  he  raised  his  eyes  his  friend  was  standing 
by  him  ;  he  b'eheld  a  countenance  which  quivered  with 
inward  sympathy,  and  heard  the  gentle  question  : 

"  What  will  come  of  it  ?" 

"  Husband  and  wife,"  said  the  Professor  decidedly; 
he  pressed  his  friend's  hands,  and  strode  across  the 
fields  to  the  songs  of  the  larks  which  greeted  him  from 
every  sheaf. 

Fritz  was  alone.  The  word  had  been  spoken.  A 
new  and  awful  fate  overshadowed  the  life  of  his  friend. 
So  this  was  to  be  the  end  of  it  ?  Thusnelda,  instead 
of  Tacitus  !  Fritz  felt  alas  !  that  the  social  custom  of 
marriage  might  be  a  very  venerable  institution.  It 
was  inevitable  that  most  men  pass  through  the  uprooting 
struggle  which  is  the  consequence  .of  a  change  in  the 
mutual  relations  of  life.  He  could  not  think  of  his 
friend  amid  his  books,  with  his  colleagues,  and  this 
woman.  He  felt  painfully  that  his  relation  to  the  Pro- 
fessor must  be  changed  by  it.  But  he  did  not  think  long 
of  himself,  but  anxiously  worried  about  his  rash  friend  ; 


l-O  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

and  not  less  about  her  who  had  so  dangerously  im- 
pressed the  soul  of  the  other.  The  faithful  rash  friend 
looked  angrily  upon  the  surrounding  stubble  and  straw, 
and  he  clenched  his  fists  against  the  deceased  Bach- 
huber  ;  against  the  valley  of  Rossau  ;  nay,  even  against 
the  immediate  cause  of  this  mischievous  confusion  — 
against  the  manuscript  of  Tacitus. 

CHAPTER  IX. 
ILSE. 

SINCE  the  death  of  her  mother  Use  had  lived  an  un- 
varied home  life.  Though  then  scarcely  grown  up, 
she  had  taken  charge  of  the  household.  Spring  and 
autumn  came  and  went.  One  year  rolled  over  her 
head  like  another.  Her  father  and  sisters,  the  estate, 
the  laborers,  and  the  poor  of  the  valley  —  these  formed 
her  life.  More  than  once  a  suitor,  a  sturdy,  worthy 
proprietor  of  the  neighborhood,  had  asked  her  hand  in 
marriage.  But  she  felt  contented  with  her  home, 
and  she  knew  that  her  father  wished  her  to  remain  with 
him.  In  the  evening,  when  the  active  man  rested 
on  the  sofa,  and  the  children  were  sent  to  bed  she 
sat  silently  by  him  with  her  embroidery,  or  talked 
over  the  small  occurrences  of  the  day  —  the  illness  of 
a  laborer,  the  damage  done  by  a  hail  storm  or  the 
name  of  the  new  milch  cow.  It  was  a  lonely  country. 
Much  of  it  was  woodland.  Most  of  the  estates  were 
small.  There  were  .no  rich  neighbors.  And  the  father, 
who  had  worked  his  way  by  his  energy  until  he  be- 
came an  opulent  man,  had  no  inclination  for  society 
life,  nor  had  his  daughter.  On  Sunday  the  Pastor 
came  to  dinner,  and  then  the  father's  farm-inspectors 
remained  and  related  the  little  gossip  of  the  neighbor- 


A 


ILSE. 


hood  over  their  coffee  ;  the  children,  who,  during  the 
week,  were  under  the  charge  of  a  tutor,  amused  them- 
selves in  the  garden  and  fields.  When  Use  had  a  leis- 
ure hour  she  seated  herself  in  her  own  little  sitting- 
room  with  a  book  out  of  her  father's  small  library — a 
novel  by  Walter  Scott,  a  tale  by  Hauff,  or  a  volume 
of  Schiller. 

But  now  a  profusion  of  thoughts,  images,  and  feel- 
ing had  been  awakened  in  her  mind  by  this  stranger. 
Much  that  she  had  hitherto  looked  upon  with  indiffer- 
ence in  the  outer  world,  now  became  interesting  to 
her.  Like  fire-works  which  unexpectedly  shoot  up, 
illuminating  particular  spots  in  the  landscape  with 
their  colored  light,  his  conversation  threw  a  fascinat- 
ing light,  now  here  and  now  there,  on  a  life  that  was 
strange  to  her.  When  he  spoke,  when  his  words, 
copious  and  choice,  flowed  from  his  innermost  heart 
— she  bent  her  head  as  in  a  dream,  then  fixed  her 
eyes  on  his  face.  She  felt  a  respect  commingled  with 
fear  for  a  human  mind  that  soared  so  loftily  and  firmly 
above  the  earth.  He  spoke  of  the  past  as  intimately 
as  of  the  present  ;  he  knew  how  to  explain  the  secret 
thoughts  of  men  who  had  lived  a  thousand  years  ago. 
Ah  !  she  felt'  the  glory  and  greatness  of  human  learn- 
ing to  be  the  merit  and  greatness  of  the  man  who  sat 
opposite  to  her.  The  intellectual  labor  of  the  centuries 
appeared  to  her  as  a  supernatural  being  which  pro- 
claimed from  a  human  mouth  things  unheard  of  in  her 
home. 

But  it  was  not  learning  alone.  When  she  looked 
up  at  him,  she  saw  beaming  eyes,  a  kindly  expression 
about  the  eloquent  lips,  and  she  felt  herself  irresistibly 
attracted  by  the  warmth  of  the  man's  nature.  Then 
she  sat  opposite  to  him  as  a  quiet  listener.  But  when 


172  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

she  entered  her  room,  she  knelt  down  and  covered 
her  face  with  her  hands.  In  this  solitude  she  saw  him 
before  her  and  offered  him  homage. 

Thus  she  awoke  to  a  new  life.  It  was  a  state  of 
pure  enthusiasm,  of  unselfish  rapture,  such  as  a  man 
knows  not  and  only  a  woman  can  experience, — which 
comes  only  to  a  pure,  innocent  heart  when  the  greatest 
crisis  of  earthly  existence  visits  a  sensitive  soul  in  the 
bloom  of  life. 

She  saw  also  that  her  father  was  partially  under  the 
same  magical  influence.  At  dinner,  which  used  to  be  so 
silent,  conversation  now  flowed  as  from  a  living  spring  ; 
in  the  evening,  when  formerly  he  used  to  sit  wearily 
over  the  newspaper,  many  things  were  now  discussed, 
and  there  were  frequent  disputes  which  lasted  late 
into  the  night.  Her  father,  when  he  took  his  bed- 
room candle  from  the  table,  was  always  in  cheerful 
humor ;  and  more  than  once  he  repeated  to  himself, 
pacing  up  and  down,  sentences  that  had  been  uttered 
by  his  guest.  "He  is,  in  his  way,  a  fine  man,"  he 
said;  "in  all  things  stable  and  sound;  one  always 
knows  how  to  take  him." 

Occasionally  she  was  alarmed  at  the  Professor's 
opinions.  The  two  friends,  indeed,  avoided  what 
might  wound  the  deep  faith  of  their  gentle  hearer, 
but  in  the  conversation  of  the  Professor  there  some- 
times seemed  to  lie  hidden  a  different  conception  of 
venerated  doctrines  and  of  human  duties ;  and  yet, 
what  he  maintained  was  so  noble  and  good  that  she 
could  not  guard  herself  against  it  by  her  own  reason- 
ing. 

He  was  often  vehement  in  his  expressions  ;  when 
he  condemned  a  thing  he  did  it  in  forcible  language, 
and  sometimes  became  so  vehement  that  the  Doctor 


ILSE.  173 

and  even  her  father  withdrew  from  the  contest.  She 
thought  then  that  he  was  different  from  almost  all 
men — prouder,  nobler,  and  more  decided.  When  he 
expected  much  of  others,  as  is  natural  to  one  who  has 
lived  in  closer  intercourse  with  the  ideal  world  than 
with  real  life,  it  alarmed  her  to  think  in  what  light  she 
must  appear  to  him.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  this 
same  man  was  ready  to  acknowledge  everything  that 
was  good,  and  he  rejoiced  like  a  child  when  he  learned 
that  any  one  had  shown  himself  brave  and  energetic. 

He  was  a  serious  man,  and  yet  he  had  become 
a  favorite  with  the  children,  even  more  than  the 
Doctor.  They  confided  their  little  secrets  to  him,  he 
visited  them  in  their  nursery,  and  gave  them  advice 
according  to  his  youthful  recollections,  as  to  how  they 
should  make  a  large  paper  kite  ;  he  himself  painted 
the  eyes  and  the  mustache,  and  cut  the  tassels  for  the 
tail.  It  was  a  joyful  day  when  the  kite  rose  from  the 
stubble-field  for  the  first  time.  Then,  when  evening 
came,  he  sat  down,  surrounded  by  the  children,  like 
the  partridge  amongst  her  young.  Franz  climbed  up 
the  arm-chair  and  played  with  his  hair  ;  one  of  the 
bigger  ones  sat  on  each  knee.  Then  riddles  were  pro- 
pounded and  stories  told.  And  when  Use  heard  how 
he  repeated  and  taught  small  rhymes  to  the  children, 
her  heart  swelled  with  joy  that  such  a  mind  should 
hold  such  intimate  intercourse  with  simple  children. 
And  she  watched  his  countenance  and  saw  a  child-like 
expression  light  up  the  features  of  the  man,  laughing 
and  happy  ;  and  she  imagined  him  as  a  little  boy,  sit- 
ting on  his  mother's  lap.  Happy  mother  ! 

Then  came  the  hour  among  the  sheaves,  the  learned 
discourse  which  began  with  Tacitus  and  ended  with  a 
silent  acknowledgment  of  love.  The  blessed  cheerful- 


!74  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

ness  of  his  countenance,  the  trembling  sound  of  his 
voice,  had  torn  away  the  veil  that  concealed  her  own 
agitated  feelings.  She  now  knew  that  she  loved  him 
deeply  and  eternally,  and  she  had  a  conviction  that  he 
felt  just  as  she  did.  He,  who  was  so  greatly  her  supe- 
rior, had  condescended  to  her  ;  she  had  felt  his  warm 
breath  and  the  quick  pressure  of  his  hand.  As  she 
passed  through  the  field,  a  glow  suffused  her  cheeks  ; 
the  earth  and  heaven,  fields  and  sun-lit  wood,  floated 
before  her  like  luminous  clouds.  With  winged  feet  she 
hastened  down  into  the  woody  plain,  where  the  foliage 
enveloped  her.  Now  she  felt  herself  alone.  She  un- 
consciously grasped  a  slender  birch  tree,  which  shook 
beneath  her  convulsive  grasp,  until  its  leaves  fell  in  a 
shower  around  her.  She  raised  her  hands  to  the  gol- 
den light  of  the  heavens  and  threw  herself  down  on 
the  mossy  ground.  Her  bosom  heaved  and  panted 
violently  and  she  trembled  with  inward  excitement. 
Love  had  descended  from  heaven  upon  the  young 
woman,  taking  possession  of  her  body  and  soul  with 
its  irresistible  power. 

Thus  she  lay  a  long  time.  Butterflies  played  about 
her  hair.  A  little  lizard  crept  over  her  hand.  The 
white  tips  of  the  wild  flowers  and  the  branches  of  the 
hazel  bent  over  her,  as  if  these  little  children  of  nature 
wished  to  veil  the  deep  emotions  of  the  sister  who  had 
come  to  them  in  the  happiest  moment  of  her  life. 

At  last  she  rose  upon  her  knees,  clasped  her  hands 
together,  and  thanked  and  prayed  to  God  for  him. 

She  became  more  collected  and  went  into  the  open 
valley,  no  longer  the  quiet  girl  she  was  formerly.  Her 
own  life  and  what  surrounded  her  shone  in  new  colors, 
and  she  viewed  the  world  with  new  feelings.  She 
understood  the  language  of  the  pair  of  swallows  that 


[?=  =^ 


ILSE. 


circled  round  her,  and  with  twittering  tones  passed  by 
her  swift  as  arrows.  It  was  the  rapturous  joy  of  life 
which  impelled  the  little  bodies  so  swiftly  through  the 
air,  and  the  birds  greeted  her  with  a  sisterly  song  of 
jubilee.  She  answered  the  greeting  of  the  laborers 
who  were  going  home  from  the  fields,  and  she  looked 
at  one  of  the  women  who  had  been  binding  the  sheaves, 
and  knew  exactly  what  was  the  state  of  her  feelings. 
This  woman  also  had,  as  a  maiden,  loved  a  strange 
lad  ;  it  had  been  a  long  and  unhappy  attachment, 
attended  by  much  sorrow  ;  but  now  she  was  comforted 
going  with  him  to  her  home,  and  when  she  spoke  to 
her  mistress  she  looked  proudly  on  her  companion, 
and  Use  felt  how  happy  was  the  poor  weary  woman. 
When  Use  entered  the  farm-yard,  and  heard  the  voices 
of  the  maids  who  had  waited  for  her  in  vain,  and  the 
impatient  lowing  of  the  cattle,  which  sounded  like  a 
reproach  on  the  loitering  mistress,  she  shook  her  head 
gently,  as  if  the  admonition  was  no  longer  for  her,  but 
for  another. 

When  she  again  passed  from  the  farm  buildings 
into  the  golden  evening  light,  with  fleet  steps  and 
elevated  head,  she  perceived  with  astonishment  her 
father  standing  by  his  horse  ready  to  mount,  and  with 
him,  in  quiet  conversation,  the  Doctor,  and  he  whom 
at  this  moment  she  felt  a  difficulty  in  encountering. 
She  approached  hesitatingly. 

"Where  have  you  been  lingering,  Use?"  cried  the 
Proprietor.  "  I  must  be  off,"  and  looking  at  the  agi- 
tated countenance  of  his  daughter,  he  added  :  "  It  is 
nothing  of  importance.  A  letter  from  the  invalid  for- 
ester calls  me  to  his  house.  One  of  the  Court  people 
has  arrived,  and  I  can  guess  what  is  wanted  of  me. 
I  hope  to  be  back  at  night." 


Ij6  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

He  nodded  to  the  Doctor.  "We  shall  see  each 
other  again  before  your  departure." 

So  saying,  he  trotted  away,  and  Use  was  thankful 
in  her  heart  for  the  incident  which  made  it  easier  for 
her  to  speak  with  composure  to  the  friends.  She 
walked  with  them  on  the  road  along  which  her  father 
had  ridden,  and  endeavored  to  conceal  her  disquiet  by 
talking  on  indifferent  subjects.  She  spoke  of  the  hunt- 
ing castle  in  the  wood,  and  of  the  solitude  in  which 
the  gray-headed  forester  dwelt  among  the  beech-trees 
of  the  forest.  But  the  conversation  did  not  flow;  each 
of  those  noble  hearts  was  powerfully  touched.  The 
Professor  and  Use  avoided  looking  at  each  other,  and 
the  friend  could  not  succeed,  by  jocose  talk,  in  draw- 
ing the  lovers  down  to  the  small  things  of  life. 

Use  suddenly  pointed  with  her  hand  to  a  narrow 
pass  on  one  side,  from  which  many  dark  heads  were 
emerging. 

"Look!  There  are  the  Indians  of  Mrs.  Roll- 
maus. " 

A  crowd  of  wild  figures  came  on  with  quick  step, 
one  behind  the  other.  In  front  a  powerful  man  in  a  brown 
smock-frock  and  shabby  hat,  with  a  stout  stick  in  his 
hand  ;  behind  him  some  young  men,  then  women  with 
little  children  on  their  backs ;  all  around  and  about 
the  troop  ran  half-naked  boys  and  girls.  Most  of  the 
strangers  were  bare-headed,  and  without  shoes.  Their 
long  black  hair  hung  about  their  brown  faces,  and 
their  wild  eyes,  even  from  afar,  shone  covetously  on 
the  walking  party. 

"  When  the  autumn  comes,  these  people  some- 
times wander  through  our  country.  They  are  jugglers, 
going  to  the  fair.  But  for  some  years  they  have  not 
ventured  into  the  neighborhood  of  our  estate." 


ILSE. 


177 


The  troop  approached ;  there  was  a  wild  rush 
out  of  the  gang,  and  in  a  moment  the  friends  were  sur- 
rounded by  ten  or  twelve  dusky  figures,  who  pressed 
on  them  with  passionate  gestures,  loud  cries,  and  out- 
stretched hands — men,  women,  and  children,  in  tumult- 
uous confusion.  The  friends  looked  with  astonish- 
ment on  their  piercing  eyes  and  vehement  movements, 
and  on  the  children,  who  stamped  with  their  feet,  and 
clawed  the  strangers  with  their  hands  like  madmen. 

"Back,  you  wild  creatures,"  cried  Use,  pushing 
herself  through  the  throng,  and  placing  herself  before 
the  friends.  "  Back  with  you.  Who  is  the  chief  of 
this  band  ?  "  she  repeated  with  anger,  raising  her  arm 
commandingly. 

The  noise  was  silenced  and  a  brown  gypsy  woman, 
not  smaller  than  Use,  with  shining  hair  arranged  in 
braids  and  a  colored  handkerchief  about  her  head, 
came  out  from  the  band,  and  stretched  her  hands  to- 
ward Use. 

"  My  children  beg,"  she  said  ;  "  they  hunger  and 
thirst." 

It  was  a  large  face  with  sharp  features,  in  which 
traces  of  former  beauty  were  visible.  With  head  bent 
forward,  she  stood  before  the  young  lady,  and  her 
sparkling  eyes  passed  peeringly  from  one  countenance 
to  the  other. 

"  We  have  money  only  for  the  men  who  work  for 
us,"  answered  Use,  coldly.  "For  strangers  who  are 
thirsty,  there  is  our  spring  ;  and  to  those  who  are 
hungry  we  give  bread.  You  will  get  nothing  more  at 
our  house." 

Again  dozens  of  arms  were  raised  and  again  the 
wild  crowd  pressed  nearer.  The  gypsy  woman  drove 
them  back  by  a  call  in  a  foreign  tongue. 


178  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"We  wish  to  work,  Mademoiselle,"  she  said,  in 
fluent  German,  with  a  foreign  accent;  "the  men 
mend  old  utensils,  and  we  drive  away  rats  and  mice 
from  the  walls ;  and  if  yo.u  have  a  sick  horse,  we  will 
cure  it  speedily." 

Use  shook  her  head  negatively.  "We  do  not  need 
your  help  ;  where  is  your  pass  ?  " 

"We  have  none,"  said  the  woman;  "we  came 
from  foreign  parts,"  and  she  pointed  to  where  the  sun 
rises. 

"And  where  will  you  rest  to-night  ?  "  asked  Use. 

"We  do  not  know  ;  the  sun  is  going  down  and  my 
people  are  weary  and  barefooted,"  replied  the  gypsy 
woman.  . 

"You  must  not  rest  near  the  farm  nor  near  the 
village  houses.  The  bread  you  will  receive  at  the  gate 
of  the  farm-yard  ;  you  may  send  some  one  there  to 
fetch  it.  If  you  light  a  fire  in  any  of  our  fields,  take 
care  not  to  go  too  near  the  sheaves  ;  we  shall  look 
after  you.  Let  none  of  you  stroll  about  the  estate 
or  into  the  village  to  tell  fortunes  to  people,  for  we  do 
not  permit  it." 

"  We  do  not  tell  fortunes,"  answered  the  woman, 
touching  a  small  black  cross  which  she  wore  around 
her  neck.  "None  here  below  know  the  future,  nor 
do  we." 

Use  bent  her  head  reverently. 

"Well  said,"  said  she.  "According  to  the  mean- 
ing which  seems  conveyed  in  your  words,  you  do  not 
remind  me  in  vain  of  the  communion  which  exists  be- 
tween us.  Come  to  the  gate  yourself,  mother,  and 
await  me  there ;  if  you  need  anything  for  your  little 
ones,  I  will  endeavor  to  help  you." 

"We  have  a  sick  child,  my  pretty  young  lady, 


ILSE. 


I79 


and  the  boys  are  in  want  of  clothes,"  begged  the  gypsy 
woman.  "I  will  come,  and  my  people  shall  do  as  you 
wish." 

She  gave  a  sign,  and  the  wild  troop  tramped  obe- 
diently along  the  side-road  that  led  to  the  village. 
The  friends  looked  with  curiosity  after  the  band. 

"That  such  a  scene  should  be  possible  in  this 
country  I  could  never  have  believed,"  cried  the 
Doctor. 

"  They  were  formerly  quite  a  nuisance  to  us,"  re- 
plied Use,  with  indifference;  they  are  seldom  about, now. 
My  father  keeps  strict  order,  and  that  they  know  right 
well.  But  we  must  go  back  to  the  farm-yard,  for  there 
can  be  no  harm  in  caution  with  this  thievish  race." 

They  hastened  back  to  the  farm-yard.  The  Doctor 
lamented  heartily  that  his  intended  journey  prevented 
him  from  obtaining  information  from  the  strangers 
respecting  the  secrets  of  their  language. 

Use  called  the  Inspector,  and  the  intelligence  that 
there  were  gypsies  in  the  neighborhood  flew  like  wild- 
fire over  the  farm.  The  stables  were  guarded,  the 
poultry  and  families  of  fatted  pigs  were  put  in  the 
charge  of  stout  maids,  and  the  shepherds  and  plough- 
men received  orders  to  keep  watch  at  night.  Use 
called  the  children  and  gave  them  their  supper,  but 
found  it  difficult  to  control  their  excitement.  The 
youngest  were  given  over  to  Mademoiselle,  and  under 
strong  protest  and  many  tears  were  consigned  to  the 
secure  protection  of  their  beds.  Then  Use  collected 
old  gowns  and  linen,  gave  a  maid  two  huge  loaves, 
and  prepared  to  go  to  the  gate  of  the  farm-yard,  where 
the  gypsy  woman  was  to  await  her.  The  Doctor,  in 
his  joy  about  the  strangers,  had  cast  off  all  anxiety 
concerning  his  friend. 


1 80  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"Allow  us  to  witness  the  interview  with  the  sibyl," 
he  begged. 

They  found  the  gypsy  woman  sitting  in  the  dusk 
before  the  gate.  Near  her  was  a  half-grown  maiden, 
with  brilliant  eyes  and  long  tresses,  but  scanty  dress. 
The  woman  rose  and  received  with  a  distinguished  air 
the  bounty  which  Use  handed  to  her. 

"  Blessings  on  you,  young  lady,"  she  exclaimed, 
"and  may  all  the  happiness  that  you  now  wish  be 
your  portion.  You  have  a  face  that  promises  good 
fortune.  Blessings  on  your  golden  hair  and  your  blue 
eyes.  I  thank  you,"  she  concluded,  bending  her  head. 
"Will  not  the  gentlemen  also  give  my  little  girl  a 
keepsake  ? "  The  wild  beauty  held  out  her  hand. 
"  Her  face  is  burnt  by  the  sun  ;  be  kind  to  the  poor 
dark  girl,"  begged  the  old  one,  looking  furtively  round. 

The  Professor  shook  his  head.  The  Doctor  got 
out  his  purse  and  placed  a  piece  of  gold  in  the  hand 
of  the  woman. 

"Have  you  given  up  fortune-telling  ?"  he  asked 
laughingly. 

"Misfortune  visits  those  who  prophesy  and  those 
who  ask,"  replied  the  gypsy  woman.  "  Let  the  gentle- 
man be  on  his  guard  against  all  that  barks  and 
scratches,  for  there  is  mischief  in  store  for  him  from 
dogs  and  cats. " 

Use  and  the  Professor  laughed.  Meanwhile  the 
eyes  of  the  gypsy  woman  peered  restlessly  into  the 
bushes. 

"We  cannot  tell  fortunes,"  she  continued.  "We 
have  no  power  over  the  future.  And  we  make  mis- 
takes, like  others.  But  we  see  much,  my  beautiful 
lady.  And  though  you  do  not  desire  it,  yet  will  I  tell 
it  you.  The  gentleman  near  you  seeks  a  treasure,  and 


ILSE.  l8l 

he  will  find  it.  But  he  must  take  care  lest  he  lose  it. 
And  you,  proud  lady,  will  be  dear  to  a  man  that  wears 
a  crown,  and  you  shall  have  the  choice  to  become  a 
queen.  The  choice  and  the  torment,"  she  added 
in  a  lower  tone,  and  her  eyes  again  wandered  un- 
quietly  about. 

"Away  with  you,"  cried  Use,  indignantly;  "  such 
gossip  does  not  agree  with  your  professions." 

"We  know  nothing,"  murmured  the  gypsy  woman 
humbly,  grasping  the  talisman  at  her  neck.  "We 
have  only  our  thoughts,  and  our  thoughts  are  idle  or 
true,  according  to  a  more  powerful  will.  Farewell, 
my  pretty  lady,"  she  cried  out  impressively,  and  strode 
with  her  companion  into  the  darkness. 

"  How  proudly  she  walks  away,"  exclaimed  the 
Doctor.  "I  have  much  respect  for  the  clever  woman. 
She  would  not  tell  fortunes,  but  she  could  not  help 
recommending  herself  by  a  bit  of  secret  knowledge." 

"She  has  long  ago  learnt  all  about  us  from  the  la- 
borers," replied  Use,  laughing. 

"Where  have  they  pitched  their  camp  ?"  asked  the 
Doctor,  with  curiosity. 

"Probably  beyond  the  village,"  answered  Use. 
' '  You  may  see  their  fires  in  the  valley.  These  strangers 
do  not  like  people  to  come  near  their  camp  and  see 
what  they  have  for  supper." 

They  descended  slowly  into  the  valley  and  re- 
mained standing  on  the  border  of  the  brook,  not  far 
from  the  garden.  All  around  them  the  darkness  of 
the  evening  lay  on  bush  and  meadow.  The  old  house 
stood  out  on  the  rock,  gloomy  under  the  twilight  gray 
of  the  heavens.  At  their  feet  the  water  murmured 
and  the  leaves  of  the  trees  were  agitated  by  the  night 
wind.  Silently  did  the  three  look  upon  the  vanishing 


182  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

shadows  of  the  landscape.     The  valley  alongside  the 

village  lay  invisible  in  the  deep  gloom  of  the  night. 

Not  one  lighted  window  was  to  be  seen. 

"They  have    disappeared  silently  like  the    bats, 

which  are  even  now  flying  through  the  air,"  said  the 

Doctor. 

But  the  others  did  not  answer.  They  were  no 
longer  thinking  of  the  gypsies. 

Then  through  the  still  evening  a  low  moan  was 
heard.  Use  started  and  listened.  Again  the  same 
weak  tone. 

"The  children  !  "  cried  Use,  in  dismay,  and  rushed 
toward  the  hedge  which  divided  the  meadow  from  the 
orchard.  Much  alarmed  she  shook  the  closed  gate, 
then  broke  through  the  hedge,  and  sprang  like  a 
lioness  past  the  espaliers.  The  friends  hastened  after 
her,  but  could  not  overtake  her.  A  bright  light  shone 
among  the  trees  before  her  and  something  moved  as 
she  flew  on.  Two  men  rose  from  the  ground  ;  one 
encountered  her,  but  Use  threw  back  the  arm  which 
was  raised  to  strike  her,  so  that  the  man  reeled  and 
fell  back  over  the  weeping  children  wh.o  lay  on  the 
grass.  Felix,  who  was  behind  Use,  sprang  forward 
and  seized  the  man,  while  the  Doctor  the  next  mo- 
ment struggled  with  another,  who  glided  like  an  eel 
from  under  his  hands  and  disappeared  in  the  dark- 
ness. Meanwhile  the  first  robber  struck  at  the  arm  of 
the  Professor  with  his  knife,  wrenched  himself  away 
from  the  hand  which  held  him,  and  in  the  next  mo- 
ment broke  through  the  hedge.  One  heard- the  crack- 
ling of  the  branches,  and  then  all  was  quiet  again. 

"  They  live  !  "  cried  Use,  kneeling  on  the  ground, 
with  panting  breath,  and  embracing  the  little  ones, 
who  now  uttered  piteous  cries.  It  was  Riekchen,  in 


ILSE.  183 

her  night-dress,  and  Franz,  also  nearly  stripped.  The 
children  had  escaped  from  the  eyes  of  Mademoiselle 
and  the  protection  of  the  bedroom,  and  slipped  into 
the  garden,  to  see  the  fire  of  the  gypsies,  of  which  they 
had  heard  their  sister  speak.  They  had  fallen  into  the 
hands  of  some  of  the  fellows  belonging  to  the  band,  who 
were  looking  out  for  something  to  steal,  and  had  been 
robbed  of  their  clothes. 

Use  took  the  screaming  children  in  her  arms,  and 
in  vain  did  the  friends  try  to  relieve  her  of  the  burden. 
Silently  she  hastened  with  them  into  the  house,  rushed 
into  the  room,  and,  still  holding  them  fast,  knelt  down 
by  them  before  the  sofa,  and  the  friends  heard  her 
suppressed  sobs.  But  it  was  only  for  a  few  moments 
that  she  lost  her  self-control.  She  rose,  and  looked 
at  the  servants,  who  thronged  terrified  into  the  room. 

"  No  harm  has  happened  to  the  children,"  she  ex- 
claimed. "Go  where  you  have  to  keep  watch  and 
send  one  of  the  overseers  to  me." 

The  Inspector  immediately  came. 

"A  robbery  has  been  committed  on  our  estate, " 
said  Use,  "and  those  who  perpetrated  it  should  be 
handed  over  to  the  law.  I  request  you  to  seize  their 
camp." 

"Their  fire  is  in  the  ravine  behind  the  village," 
replied  the  Inspector;  "one  may  see  the  flame  and 
smoke  from  the  upper  story.  But,  Miss  Use — I  say 
it  unwillingly — would  it  not  be  more  prudent  to  let  the 
rogues  escape  ?  A  large  portion  of  the  harvest  still 
lies  in  sheaves  ;  they  may  set  it  on  fire  in  the  night, 
out  of  revenge,  or  perhaps  venture  something  still 
worse,  in  order  to  free  their  people." 

"No,"  exclaimed  Use;  "do  not  hesitate — do  not 
delay.  Whether  the  vagabonds  injure  us  or  not  will 


184  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

be  decided  by  a  higher  will.  We  must  do  our  duty. 
The  crime  demands  punishment,  and  the  master  of 
this  estate  is  in  the  position  of  guardian  of  the  law." 

"Let  us  be  quick,"  said  the  Professor  ;  "we  will 
accompany  you." 

"Well,  so  be  it,"  replied  the  Inspector,  after  con- 
sideration ;  "  the  farm  bailiff  shall  remain  here  and  we 
others  will  seek  the  band  at  the  fire." 

He  hastened  out.  The  Doctor  seized  a  knobbed 
stick  that  was  in  the  corner  of  the  room.  "That  will 
suffice  for  me,"  he  said,  laughing,  to  his  friend.  "  I 
consider  myself  bound  to  show  some  forbearance  to- 
ward these  thievish  associates  of  my  studies,  who  have 
not  quite  forgotten  their  old  tongue."  As  he  was  on 
the  point  of  leaving  the  room  he  stopped  :  "  But  you 
must  remain  behind,  for  you  are  bleeding." 

Some  drops  of  blood  fell  from  the  sleeve  of  the 
Professor. 

The  countenance  of  the  maiden  became  white  as 
the  door  against  which  she  leant.  "For  our  sake," 
she  murmured  faintly.  Suddenly  she  hastened  up  to 
the  Professor  and  bent  down  to  kiss  his  hand.  Felix 
restrained  her. 

"It  is  not  worth  speaking  of,  Miss  Use,"  he  ex- 
claimed. "  I  can  move  my  arm." 

The  Doctor  compelled  him  to  take  off  his  coat  and 
Use  flew  for  a  bandage. 

Fritz  examined  the  wound  with  the  composure  of 
an  old  duellist.  "  It  is  a  slight  prick  in  the  muscles 
of  the  under  part  of  the  arm,"  he  said,  comforting 
Use  ;  "a  little  sticking-plaster  will  be  sufficient." 

The  Professor  put  on  his  coat  again  and  seized  his 
hat.  "  Let  us  start,"  he  said. 


ILSE. 


"Oh,  no;  remain  with  us,"  begged  Use  hastening 
after  him. 

The  Professor  looked  at  her  anxious  countenance, 
shook  her  heartily  by  the  hand  and  left  the  room  with 
his  friend. 

The  hasty  tread  of  the  men  had  died  away.  Use 
went  alone  through  all  the  rooms  in  the  house.  Doors 
and  windows  were  closed.  Hans  watched  at  the  door 
opening  into  the  court-yard,  his  father's  sword  in  his 
hand.  And  the  housemaids  overlooked  the  court-yard 
and  garden  from  the  upper  floor.  Use  entered  the 
nursery,  where  the  two  little  ones,  surrounded  by 
Mademoiselle  and  their  brothers  and  sisters,  were 
sitting  in  their  beds  and  struggling  between  their  last 
tears  and  their  sleep.  Use  kissed  the  tired  little  ones, 
laid  them  down  on  their  pillows,  then  she  hastened 
out  into  the  yard  and  listened,  now  in  the  direction  in 
which  the  band  lay,  now  on  the  other  side,  where  the 
clatter  of  horses'  hoofs  might  announce  the  arrival  of 
her  father.  All  was  quiet.  The  maids  from  above 
called  to  her  that  the  fire  of  the  gypsies  was  extin- 
guished, and  she  again  hastened  up  and  down,  listen- 
ing anxiously  and  looking  up  to  the  starry  heaven. 

What  a  day  !  A  few  hours  before  raised  above  the 
cares  of  earth,  and  now  by  a  hostile  hand  dragged 
back  into  terror  and  anxiety !  Was  this  to  be  a  fore- 
boding of  her  future  life  ?  Were  the  golden  doors  only 
opened  to  be  closed  again  discordantly  and  a  poor  soul 
to  be  thrown  back  upon  hopeless  aspirations  ?  The 
deceiver  had  prophesied  of  one  who  might  wear  a 
crown.  Yes,  in  the  realm  in  which  he  ruled  as  king 
there  was  a  blessed  serenity  and  happy  peace.  Ah, 
if  it  might  be  permitted  to  compare  the  joys  of  earth 
with  those  of  heaven,  such  learning  and  power  of 


1 86  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

thought  gave  a  foretaste  of  eternal  glory.  For  thus  ' 
did  the  spirits  of  those  who  had  here  been  good  and  wise 
soar,  surrounded  by  light,  in  pure  clearness  of  vision, 
and  speak  smilingly  and  happily  to  one  another  of 
all  that  had  been  upon  earth ;  the  most  secret  things 
would  be  revealed  to  them,  and  all  that  was  most 
deeply  veiled  become  apparent,  and  they  would  know 
that  all  the  pains  and  sorrows  of  earth  proceeded  from 
eternal  goodness  and  wisdom.  And  he  who  here  trod 
this  earth,  a  serene  heaven  in  his  heart,  he  had  been 
wounded  in  the  arm  by  a  wandering  vagabond  for  her 
sake ;  and  from  love  for  her  he  had  again  gone  out 
into  the  fearful  night,  and  she  was  troubled  with  end- 
less anguish  on  his  account.  "Protect  him,  all-merci- 
ful God,"  she  prayed,  "and  help  me  out  of  this  dark- 
ness ;  give  me  strength,  and  enlighten  my  mind  that 
I  may  become  worthy  of  the  man  who  beholds  Thy 
countenance  in  past  times,  and  among  people  that 
have  passed  away." 

At  last  she  heard  the  quick  trot,  and  then  the  snort- 
ing of  an  impatient  horse  at  the  closed  door.  "Father  !  " 
she  cried  out,  hastily  drawing  back  the  bolt,  and  fly- 
ing into  his  arms,  as  he  dismounted.  The  Proprietor 
was  much  perplexed  as  he  listened  to  her  rapid  report. 
He  threw  his  horse's  bridle  to  his  son,  and  hastened 
to  the  nursery  to  embrace  his  little  ones,  who  at  the 
sight  of  their  father  remembered  their  misfortunes, 
and  began  to  weep  and  lament. 

When  the  Proprietor  entered  the  farmyard,  the 
farming  people  were  drawn  near  the  house,  and  the 
Inspector  stated  "  that  no  one  was  to  be  seen  near  the 
fire  or  in  the  neighborhood.  There  was  not  a  trace 
near  the  fire  of  their  having  encamped  there.  It  had 
been  lighted  to  mislead.  Theft  had  been  their  only 


ILSE. 


I87 


object  here.  The  grea'er  part  of  the  band  had  left 
early  in  the  evening.  They  are  lying  concealed  some- 
where in  the  woods,  and  when  the  sun  rises  they  will 
be  far  beyond  the  frontier.  I  know  the  rascals  of  old." 

"  He  is  right,"  said  the  Proprietor  to  the  friends, 
"and  I  think  we  have  nothing  more  to  fear.  Yet  we 
must  be  very  watchful  to-night.  A  poor  father  thanks 
you,"  he  continued,  with  emotion.  "The  last  day 
you  have  passed  with  us,  Doctor,  has  been  unpleas- 
antly eventful,  which  is  not  usual  with  us." 

"I  must  say  I  depart  in  anxiety  about  what  I  leave 
behind  me,"  replied  the  Doctor,  half  jesting,  half  se- 
rious. "Just  fancy  that  now  the  lost  children  of  Asia 
are  sneaking  about  these  walls  !  " 

"  I  hope  we  are  rid  of  the  rascals,"  continued  the 
Proprietor,  turning  to  his  daughter  ;  but  you  may  count 
upon  a  different  visit  soon  ;  our  sovereign  will  be  here  a 
few  weeks  hence.  I  have  been  called  away  only  to 
hear  gossip  about  his  visit,  and  to  learn  that  it  is  not 
yet  decided  where  his  Serene  Highness  will  breakfast 
before  the  hunt.  I  know  what  that  means.  The  same 
thing  happened  fifteen  years  ago.  There  is  no  help 
for  it ;  he  cannot  remain  at  the  Dragon  at  Rossau. 
But  this  visit  will  not  cause  us  any  very  serious  incon- 
venience. Let  us  now  wish  each  other  goodnight  and 
sleep  in  peace." 

Both  friends  entered  their  bedroom  thoughtfully. 
The  Professor  stood  at  the  window,  and  listened  to  the 
tread  of  the  watchmen,  who  paced  around  the  yard 
within  and  without,  to  the  chirruping  of  the  crickets, 
and  to  the  broken  sounds  which  reached  the  ear  from 
the  slumbering  fields.  He  heard  a  noise  near  him, 
and  looked  into  the  countenance  of  his  faithful  friend, 
who  in  his  excitement  had  clasped  his  hands 


1 88 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


"  She  is  religious,"  began  Fritz,  doubtfully. 

"Are  we  not  so  also ?"  answered  the  Professor, 
drawing  himself  up  to  his  full  height. 

"  She  is  as  far  removed  from  the  tenor  of  your  mind 
as  the  holy  Saint  Elizabeth." 

"  She  has  sense,"  replied  the  Professor. 

"She  is  firm  and  self-confident  in  her  own  circle, 
but  she  will  never  be  at  ease  in  your  world." 

"She  has  aptness  here — she  will  have  it  every- 
where." 

"You  blind  yourself,"  cried  Fritz,  in  despair  ;  "  will 
you  disturb  the  peace  of  your  life  by  a  discord,  the 
issue  of  which  you  cannot  foresee  ?  Will  you  demand 
of  her  the  great  change  which  she  must  undergo  from 
being  a  thorough  housekeeper  to  becoming  the  confi- 
dant of  your  profound  investigations  ?  Will  you  de- 
prive her  of  the  secure  self-dependence  of  an  active 
life  and  bring  into  her  future,  struggle,  uncertainty, 
and  doubt  ?  If  you  will  not  think  of  your  own  peace, 
it  is  your  duty  to  show  consideration  for  her  life." 

The  Professor  leaned  his  hot  head  against  the  win- 
dow. At  last  he  began  : 

"  But  we  are  the  servants  and  proclaimers  of  truth  ; 
and  while  we  practice  this  duty  towards  every  one  who 
will  hear  us,  is  it  not  right  and  a  duty  to  do  it  where 
we  love  ?  " 

"  Do  not  deceive  yourself,"  answered  Fritz.  "  You, 
the  man  of  refined  feeling,  who  so  willingly  recognize 
in  every  life  the  right  to  what  befits  it — you  would  be 
the  last  to  disturb  the  harmony  of  her  being,  if  you 
did  not  desire  to  possess  her.  What  impels  you  is 
not  a  feeling  of  duty,  but  passion." 

"  What  I  do  not  demand  of  a  stranger,  it  behooves 


ILSE. 


189 


me  to  fulfil  in  the  woman  with  whom  I  unite  myself 
for  life.  And  must  not  every  woman  that  comes  to 
share  our  life  experience  a  similar  change  ?  How  high 
do  you  place  the  knowledge  of  the  women  in  the  city 
who  come  into  our  circle  ?  " 

"  What  they  know  is,  as  a  rule,  more  unreliable 
than  is  good  for  them  or  for  us,"  replied  Fritz  ;  "but 
from  their  youth  they  are  accustomed  to  view  the 
learning  that  interests  men,  with  sympathy.  The  best 
results  of  intellectual  work  are  so  easily  accessible  to 
them  that  everywhere  they  find  common  ground  on 
which  they  can  meet.  But  here,  however  charming 
and  admirable  this  life  may  appear  to  our  eyes,  it  is 
attractive  just  because  it  is  so  strange  and  different 
from  ours." 

"You  exaggerate,  you  distort,"  cried  the  Profes- 
sor. "I  have  felt  deeply  in  the  time  that  we  have 
passed  here  how  great  are  the  rights  that  a  noble  pas- 
sion has  over  one's  life.  This  we  have  forgotten  over 
our  books.  Who  can  tell  what  it  is  that  makes  two 
human  beings  so  love  one  another,  that  they  cannot 
part?  It  is  not  only  pleasure  in  the  existence  of  the 
other,  nor  the  necessity  of  making  one's  own  being 
complete,  nor  feeling  and  fancy  alone,  which  joins 
the  object  of  our  love — although  heretofore  a  stranger 
— so  intimately  to  us.  Is  it  necessary  that  the  wife 
should  only  be  the  finer  reed,  which  always  sounds 
the  same  notes  that  the  husband  plays — only  an 
octave  higher?  Speech  is  incapable  of  expressing 
the  joy  and  exultation  that  I  feel  when  near  her  ;  and 
I  can  only  tell  you,  my  friend,  that  it  is  something 
good  and  great,  and  it  demands  its  place  in  my  life. 
What  you  now  express  are  only  the  doubts  of  cold 
reason,  which  is  an  enemy  to  all  that  is  in  process  of 


190 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


becoming,  and  continues  to  raise  its  pretensions  until 
it  is  subdued  by  accomplished  realities." 

"It  is  not  alone  reason,"  replied  Fritz,  offended. 
"I  did  not  deserve  that  you  should  so  misconstrue 
what  I  have  said.  If  it  was  presumptuous  in  me  to 
speak  to  you  concerning  feelings  which  you  now  con- 
sider sacred,  I  must  say  in  excuse,  that  I  only  assume 
the  right  which  your  friendship  has  hitherto  granted 
me.  I  must  do  my  duty  to  you  before  I  leave  you 
here.  If  I  cannot  convince  you,  try  to  forget  this 
conversation.  I  shall  never  touch  upon  this  theme 
again." 

He  left  the  Professor  standing  at  the  window,  and 
went  to  his  bed.  •  He  softly  took  off  his  boots,  threw 
himself  upon  the  bed,  and  turned  his  face  to  the  wall. 
After  a  short  time  he  felt  his  hand  seized,  the  Pro- 
fessor was  sitting  by  his  bed  clasping  his  friend's  hand 
without  saying  a  word.  At  last  Fritz  withdrew  his 
hand  with  a  hearty  pressure  and  again  turned  to  the 
wall. 

He  rose  in  the  early  dawn,  gently  approached  the 
slumbering  Professor,  and  then  quietly  left  the  room. 
The  Proprietor  awaited  him  in  the  sitting-room  ;  the 
carriage  came  ;  there  was  a  short  friendly  parting,  and 
Fritz  drove  away,  leaving  his  friend  alone  among  the 
crickets  of  the  field  and  the  ears  of  corn,  whose  heavy 
heads  rose  and  fell  like  the  waves  of  the  sea  under  the 
morning  breeze,  the  same  this  year  as  they  had  done 
thousands  and  thousands  of  years  before. 

The  Doctor  looked  back  at  the  rock  on  which  the 
old  house  stood,  on  the  terraces  beneath,  with  the 
churchyard  and  wooden  church,  and  on  the  forest 
which  surrounded  the  foot  of  the  hill ;  and  all  the  past 
and  the  present  of  this  dangerous  place  rose  distinctly 


ILSE.  191 

before  him.  Its  ancient  character  of  Saxon  times  had 
altered  little  ;  and  he  looked  on  the  rock  and  the 
beautiful  Use  of  Bielstein,  as  they  would  have  been  in 
the  days  of  yore.  Then  the  rock  would  have  been  con- 
secrated to  a  heathen  god.  At  that  time  there  would 
have  been  a  tower  standing  on  it.  And  Use  would 
have  dwelt  there,  with  her  golden  hair,  in  a  white  linen 
dress  with  a  garment  of  otter  skin  over  it.  She  would 
have  been  priestess  and  prophetess  of  a  wild  Saxon 
race.  Where  the  church  stood  would  have  been  the 
sacrificial  altar,  from  which  the  blood  of  prisoners  of 
war  would  have  trickled  down  into  the  valley. 

Again,  later,  a  Christian  Saxon  chief  would  have 
built  his  log-house  there,  and  again  the  same  Use 
would  have  sat  between  the  wooden  posts  in  the  raised 
apartment  of  the  women,  using  her  spindle,  or  pouring 
black  mead  into  the  goblets  of  the  men. 

Again,  centuries  later  it  would  have  been  a  walled 
castle,  with  stone  mullions  to  the  windows,  and  a 
watch-turret  erected  on  the  rock  ;  it  had  become  a 
nest  for  predatory  barons,  and  Use  of  Bielstein  again 
dwelt  there,  in  a  velvet  hood  which  her  father  had 
robbed  from  a  merchant  on  the  king's  highway.  And 
when  the  house  was  assaulted  by  enemies,  Ilse  stood 
among  the  men  on  the  wall  and  drew  the  great  cross- 
bow, like  a  knight's  squire. 

Again,  hundreds  of  years  later,  she  sat  in  the 
hunting-lodge  of  a  prince,  with  her  father,  an  old  war- 
rior of  Swedish  times.  Than  she  had  become  pious, 
and,  like  a  city  dame,  she  cooked  jams  and  preserves, 
and  went  down  to  the  pastor  to  the  conventicle.  She 
would  not  have  worn  flowers,  and  sought  to  know  what 
husband  Heaven  destined  for  her  by  putting  her  finger 
at  hazard  on  a  passage  in  the  Bible. 


I92  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

And  now  his  friend  had  met  this  same  Saxon  child, 
tall  and  strong  in  body  and  soul,  but  still  a  child 
of  the  middle  ages,  with  a  placid  expression  in  her 
beautiful  countenance  which  only  changed  when  the 
heart  was  excited  by  any  sudden  passion  ;  a  mind  as 
if  half  asleep,  and  of  a  nature  so  child-like  and  pliant 
that  it  was  sometimes  impossible  to  know  whether  she 
was  wise  or  simple.  In  her  character  there  still  re- 
mained something  of  all  those  Uses  of  the  two  thou- 
sand years  that  had  passed  away — a  mixture  of  Sibyl, 
mead-dispenser,  knight's  daughter,  and  pietist.  She 
was  of  the  old  German  type  and  the  old  German 
beauty,  but  that  she  should  suddenly  become  the  wife 
of  a  Professor,  that  appeared  to  the  troubled  Doctor 
too  much  against  all  the  laws  of  quiet  historical  de- 
velopment. 

CHAPTER  X. 
THE    WOOING. 

A  FEW  hours  after  his  friend  had  left  the  estate,  the 
Professor  entered  the  study  of  the  Proprietor,  who 
exclaimed,  looking  up  from  his  work  :  "The  gypsies 
have  disappeared,  and  with  them  your  friend.  We 
are  all  sorry  that  the  Doctor  could  not  remain  longer." 

"With  you  lies  the  decision  whether  I  too  shall 
be  permitted  to  tarry  longer  here,"  rejoined  the  Pro- 
fessor, with  such  deep  earnestness  that  the  host  arose, 
and  looked  inquiringly  at  his  guest.  "  I  come  to  ask 
of  you  a  great  boon,"  continued  the  Professor,  "and 
I  must  depart  from  here  if  you  refuse  it  me." 

"Speak  out,  Professor,"  replied  he. 

"  It  is  impossible  for  us  to  continue  longer  in  the 


THE    WOOING.  193 

open  relations  of  host  and  guest.     For  I  now  seek  to 
win  the  love  of  your  daughter  Use." 

The  Proprietor  started,  and  the  hand  of  the  strong 
man  grasped  the  table. 

"I  know  what  I  ask  of  you,"  cried  the  Scholar,  in 
an  outburst  of  passion.  ""I  know  that  I  claim  the 
highest  and  dearest  treasure  you  can  give.  I  know 
that  I  shall  make  your  life  thereby  the  poorer.  For  I 
shall  take  from  your  side  what  has  been  your  joy,  sup- 
port, and  pride." 

"And  yet,"  murmured  the  Proprietor  gloomily, 
"you  spare  me  the  trouble  of  saying  that !  " 

"I  fear  that  at  this  moment  you  look  upon  me  as 
an  intruder  upon  the  peace  of  your  home,"  continued 
the  Professor;  "but  though  it  may  be  difficult  for 
you  to  be  indulgent  towards  me,  you  ought  to  know 
all.  I  first  saw  her  in  the  church,  and  her  religious 
fervor  impressed  me  powerfully.  I  have  lived  in  the 
house  with  her,  and  felt  more  every  hour  how  beauti- 
ful and  lovable  she  is.  The  influence  she  exercises 
over  me  is  irresistible.  The  passion  with  which  she 
has  inspired  me  has  become  so  great,  that  the  thought 
of  being  seperated  from  her  fills  me  with  dismay.  I 
long  to  be  united  to  her  and  to  make  her  my  wife." 

Thus  spoke  the  Scholar,  as  ingenuously  as  a  child. 

"And  to  what  extent  have  you  shown  your  feelings 
to  my  daughter  ?  "  asked  the  father. 

"  I  have  twice  in  an  outburst  of  emotion  touched 
her  hand,"  answered  the  Professor. 

"  Have  you  ever  spoken  to  her  of  your  love  ?  " 

"  If  I  had  I  should  not  stand  before  you  now  as  I 
do,"  rejoined  the  Professor.  "  I  am  entirely  unknown 
to  you,  and  was  brought  here  by  peculiar  circum- 
stances ;  and  I  am  not  in  the  happy  position  of  a  wooer 


194 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


who  can  appeal  to  a  long  acquaintance.  You  have 
shown  me  unusual  hospitality,  and  I  am  in  duty  bound 
not  to' abuse  your  confidence.  I  will  not,  unbeknown 
to  you,  endeavor  to  win  a  heart  that  is  so  closely 
bound  up  in  your  life." 

The  father  inclined  his  head  assentingly.  "And 
have  you  the  assurance  of  winning  her  love  ?  " 

"  I  am  no  child  and  can  see  that  she  is  warmly  at- 
tached to  me.  But  of  the  depth  and  duration  of  the 
feelings  of  a  young  girl  neither  of  us  can  judge.  At 
times  I  have  had  the  happy  conviction  that  she  cher- 
ished a  tender  passion  for  me,  but  it  is  just  the  unem- 
barrassed innocence  of  her  feelings  that  makes  me  un- 
certain ;  and  I  must  confess  to  you  that  I  know  it  is 
possible  for  those  feelings  to  pass  away." 

The  father  looked  at  this  man  who  thus  endeavored 
to  judge  impartially,  but  whose  whole  frame  was  trem- 
bling. "  It  is,  sir,  my  duty  to  yield  to  the  wishes  of 
my  child's  heart,  if  they  are  powerful  enough  to  in- 
duce her  to  leave  her  home  for  that  of  another  man — 
provided  that  I  myself  have  not  the  conviction  that  it 
would  be  detrimental  to  her  happiness.  Your  ac- 
quaintance with  my  daughter  has  been  so  short  that 
I  do  not  feel  myself  in  the  difficult  position  of  having 
to  give  my  consent,  or  to  make  my  daughter  unhappy, 
and  your  confession  makes  it  possible  for  me  to  pre- 
vent what  would,  perhaps,  in  many  respects,  be  un- 
welcome to  me.  Yes,  even  now  you  are  a  stranger  to 
me,  and  when  I  invited  you  to  stay  with  us  I  did  some- 
thing that  may  have  an  unfortunate  sequel  for  me  and 
mine." 

As  the  Proprietor  spoke  thus  in  the  excitement  of 
the  moment,  his  eyes  fell  upon  the  arm  which  had 
bled  yesterday,  and  then  on  the  manly  features  of  the 


THE    WOOING.  195 

pale  countenance  before  him.  He  broke  off  his  speech, 
and  laying  his  hand  on  the  shoulder  of  the  other  ex- 
claimed : — 

"No,  that  is  not  the  sentiment  of  my  heart,  and  I 
ought  not  to  answer  you  thus." 

He  paced  up  and  down  the  room  endeavoring  to 
find  composure. 

"  But  you  must  listen  to  a  word  of  confidence,  and 
regard  what  I  say  as  not  the  promptings  of  importu- 
nacy,"  he  continued,  more  tranquilly.  "I  know  well 
that  I  have  not  brought  up  my  daughter  for  myself, 
and  that  I  must  at  some  time  accustom  myself  to  do 
without  her.  But  our  acquaintance  is  too  short  to 
judge  whether  my  child  would  find  peace  or  happiness 
if  she  were  united  to  you.  When  I  tell  you  that  I 
honor  you  and  take  pleasure  in  your  society,  that  ad- 
mission does  not  affect  the  question  I  have  to  solve. 
If  you  were  a  country  gentleman  like  me,  I  should 
listen  to  your  communications  with  a  lighter  heart,  for 
during  the  time  of  your  stay  here  I  should  have  been 
able  to  form  a  definite  opinion  of  your  qualifications. 
The  difference  of  our  vocations  makes  it  not  only  dif- 
ficult for  me  to  judge  of  you,  but  also  dangerous  for 
the  future  of  my  child.  If  a  father  wishes  his  daughter 
to  marry  a  man  who  pursues  an  occupation  similar  to 
his  own,  he  is  justified  in  so  doing  in  every  sphere  of 
life,  and  more  especially  is  it  so  with  a  country  gentle- 
man of  my  stamp ;  for  the  qualifications  of  our  children 
consist  partly  in  this,  that  they  grow  up  as  the  help- 
meets of  their  parents.  What  Use  has  learnt  in  my  house 
gives  me  the  assurance  that,  as  the  wife  of  a  country 
gentleman,  she  would  fill  her  place  perfectly ;  nay, 
she  might  supply  the  deficiencies  of  her  husband,  and 
that  would  secure  her  a  comfortable  life,  even  though 


[7 


196  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

her  husband  did  not  possess  all  that  was  to  be  de- 
sired. As  the  wife  of  a  Professor,  she  will  have  little 
use  for  what  she  knows,  and  she  will  feel  unhappy  at 
not  having  learnt  many  other  things." 

"I  admit  that  she  will  be  deprived  of  much  ;  I 
lay  little  stress  on  what  you  call  her  deficiencies," 
said  the  Professor.  "  I  request  you  to  trust  this  mat- 
ter to  me  and  the  future." 

"Then,  Professor,  I  will  answer  you  as  candidly 
as  you  have  spoken  to  me.  I  must  not  decline  your 
proposal  hastily.  I  will  not  oppose  what  may  perhaps 
be  for  the  happiness  of  my  daughter.  Yet  I  cannot, 
with  the  imperfect  knowledge  which  I  have  of  your 
position,  assent  to  it.  And  I  am  at  this  moment  in 
the  awkward  position  of  not  knowing  how  I  can  obtain 
this  knowledge." 

"I  can  well  understand  how  unsatisfactory  to  you 

must  be  any  opinion  concerning  me  which  you  may 

gather  from  strangers.     Yet  you  will  have  to  be  con- 

tent to  do  so,"  continued  the  Professor,  with  dignity. 

(  The  father  assented  silently. 

"  First,"  continued  the  Professor,  "  I  beg  to  inform 
you  concerning  my  pecuniary  circumstances." 

He  mentioned  his  income,  gave  a  faithful  account 
of  the  sources  from  which  he  derived  it,  and  laid  a 
written  statement  on  the  writing-table. 

"  My  legal  adviser,  who  bears  a  high  repute  in  the 
University,  will  give  you  any  confirmation  you  may 
wish  of  these  details.  With  respect  to  my  capacity 
as  teacher  and  my  position  at  the  University,  I  must 
refer  you  to  the  judgment  of  my  colleagues  and  the 
opinion  which*  is  held  concerning  it  in  the  city." 

The  Proprietor  looked  at  the  statement. 

"Even  the  significance  of  these  sums  as  regardsyour 


THE    WOOING.'  197 

position  is  not  quite  clear  to  me.  Having  no  acquaint- 
ance in  your  town,  I  have  no  facilities  for  obtaining 
further  .information  concerning  you.  But,  Professor, 
I  will  without  delay  endeavor  to  obtain  all  the  infor- 
mation I  can.  I  will  start  for  the  city  of  your  resi- 
dence to-morrow." 

"  How  I  thank  you  !  "  exclaimed  the  Professor, 
grasping  his  hand. 

"  Not  yet,"  said  the  Proprietor,  withdrawing  it. 

"I  will,  of  course,  if  you  like,  accompany  you," 
continued  the  Professor. 

."I  do  not  wish  that,"  replied  the  Proprietor. 
"You  need  only  write  letters  of  introduction  for  me  to 
your  acquaintances.  For  the  rest  I  must  rely  upon 
my  own  inquiries  and  on  chance.  But,  Professor, 
this  journey  will  only  confirm  your  statements,  of  the 
truth  of  which  I  am  already  convinced.  I  may  obtain 
the  judgment  of  others  concerning  you,  which  will  no 
doubt  accord  with  mine.  But  let  us  suppose  that  the 
information  is  satisfactory  to  me,  what  will  be  the 
consequence?  " 

"  That  you  will  permit  me  to  prolong  my  stay  in 
your  house,"  said  the  Professor  ;  that  you  will  trust- 
ingly permit  me  to  pay  my  addresses  to  your  daughter; 
and  that  you  will  give  your  consent  to  our  marriage  as 
soon  as  I  am  certain  of  your  daughter's  affection." 

"  Such  preliminaries  to  wooing  are  uncommon," 
said  the  father,  with  a  saddened  smile  ;  "  but  they  are 
not  unwelcome  to  a  farmer.  We  are  accustomed  to 
see  fruits  ripen  slowly.  Thus,  Professor,  after  my 
journey  we  shall  all  three  retain  freedom  of  choice  and 
a  final  decision.  This  conversation  —  shall  it  remain 
a  secret  ?  " 

"I  entreat  you,  yes,"  said  the  Professor. 


A 


198  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

Again  a  slight  smile  flitted  over  the  grave  counte- 
nance of  the  host. 

"In  order  to  make  so  sudden  a  journey  less  sur- 
prising you  had  better  remain  here.  But,  during  my 
absense,  refrain  from  any  increase  of  intimacy  with 
my  daughter.  You  see  what  great  confidence  I  place 
in  you." 

Thus  the  Professor  had  compelled  his  host  to  be- 
come the  confidant  of  his  love.  It  was  a  delightful 
compact  between  passion  and  conscience  that  the 
scholar  had  entered  into,  and  yet  there  was  an  error 
in  this  arrangement.  The  agreement,  which  he  had 
effected  with  eager  spirit  and  beating  heart,  turned 
out  a  little  different  from  the  manner  in  which  he  had 
represented  it  to  himself  and  to  the  father ;  for,  between 
the  three  individuals  who  were  now  to  enter  upon  this 
high-minded  method  of  wooing,  all  easy  intercourse 
had  suddenly  vanished.  When  Use,  beaming  with 
happiness,  met  the  gentlemen  on  the  morning  of  the 
eventful  conversation,  she  found  her  heaven  obscured 
and  overshadowed  with  dark  clouds.  The  Professor 
was  uneasy  and  gloomy.  He  worked  almost  the  whole 
day  in  his  room,  and  when  the  little  ones  in  the  even- 
ing begged  him  to  tell  them  some  stories,  he  declined, 
took  hold  of  the  head  of  the  little  sister  with  both 
hands,  kissed  her  forehead  and  laid  his  own  head  upon 
it  as  if  he  wished  the  child  to  support  him.  The  words 
that  he  addressed  to  Use  were  few  and  constrained, 
and  yet  his  eyes  were  fixed  incessantly  upon  her,  but 
inquiringly  and  doubtingly  ;  and  Use  was  surprised 
also  at  her  father,  who  appeared  absent-minded  and 
sorrowful.  A  secret  had  arisen  between  her  father 
and  herself  that  deeply  absorbed  him  ;  nay,  even  be- 
tween the  two  men  matters  were  not  as  they  had  been. 


THE    WOOING.  I  99 

Her  father,  indeed,  spoke  sometimes  in  a  low  voice  to 
the  friend,  but  she  observed  a  constraint  in  both  when 
they  talked  on  indifferent  subjects. 

Then  the  next  morning  there  was  the  secret  journey 
of  the  father,  which  in  few  words  he  described  as  on 
unimportant  business.  Had  everything  changed  about 
her  since  that  eventful  evening  ?  Her  heart  beat 
anxiously.  A  sense  of  insecurity  came  over  her— the 
fear  of  something  direful  that  was  to  befall  her.  Sor- 
rowfully she  withdrew  to  her  room,  where  she  strug- 
gled with  bitter  thoughts  and  avoided  being  alone  with 
the  man  she  loved. 

Of  course  the  change  became  at  once  perceptible 
to  the  Professor,  and  it  tortured  the  sensitive  man. 
Did  she  wish  to  repel  him  in  order  not  to  abandon  her 
father  ?  Had  that  been  only  pleased  astonishment 
which  he  had  taken  for  affection  of  the  heart  ?  These 
anxieties  made  his  demeanor  constrained  and  un- 
equal, and  the  change  in  his  frame  of  mind  reacted  in 
turn  upon  Use. 

She  had  joyfully  opened  the  flower-bud  of  her  soul 
to  the  rising  light,  but  a  drop  of  morning  dew  had  fal- 
len into  it  and  the  tender  petals  had  closed  again  under 
the  burden. 

Use  had  acted  as  doctress  and  nurse  to  all  who 
were  ill  or  wounded  on  the  estate.  She  had  suc- 
ceeded her  mother  in  this  honorable  office  ;  her  fame 
in  the  district  was  considerable,  and  it  was  not  an  un- 
necessary accomplishment,  for  Rossau  did  not  possess 
even  one  regular  practitioner.  Use  knew  how  to  apply 
her  simple  remedies  admirably  ;  even  her  father  and 
the  Inspectors  submitted  themselves  obediently  to  her 
care.  She  had  become  so  accustomed  to  the  vocation 
of  a  Sister  of  Charity  that  it  did  not  shock  her  maiden- 


200  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

ly  feelings  to  sit  by  the  sick-bed  of  a  working  man 
and  she  looked  without  prudery  at  a  wound  which 
had  been  caused  by  the  kick  of  a  horse  or  the  cut 
of  a  scythe.  Now  the  loved  one  was  near  her  with 
his  wound,  not  even  keeping  his  arm  in  a  sling,  and 
she  was  fearful  lest  the  injury  should  become  greater. 
How  glad  she  would  have  been  to  see  the  place  and 
to  have  bandaged  it  herself  !  —  and  in  the  morning,  at 
breakfast,  she  entreated  him,  pointing  to  his  arm  : 
"Will  you  not,  for  our  sakes,  do  something  for  it?" 

The  Professor,  embarrassed,  drew  his  arm  back 
and  replied,  "  It  is  too  insignificant." 

She  felt  hurt  and  remained  silent  ;  but  when  he 
went  to  his  room  her  anxiety  became  overpowering. 
She  sent  the  charwoman,  who  was  her  trusty  assistant 
in  this  art,  with  a  commission  to  him,  and  enjoined 
her  to  enter  with  an  air  of  decision  and,  overcoming 
any  opposition  of  the  gentleman,  to  examine  the  arm 
and  report  to  her.  When  the  honest  woman  said  that 
she  was  sent  by  the  young  lady  and  that  she  must  in- 
sist upon  seeing  the  wound,  the  Professor,  though 
hesitatingly,  consented  to  show  his  arm.  But  when 
the  messenger  conveyed  a  doubtful  report,  and  Use, 
who  had  been  pacing  restlessly  up  and  down  before 
the  door,  again  ordered  cold  poultices  through  her 
deputy,  the  Professor  would  not  apply  them.  He  had 
good  reason  ;  for  however  painfully  he  felt  the  con- 
straint that  was  imposed  upon  him  in  his  intercourse 
with  Use,  yet  he  felt  it  would  be  insupportable  en- 
tirely to  lose  sight  of  her  and  sit  alone  in  his  room 
with  a  basin  of  water.  His  rejection  of  her  good 
counsel,  however,  grieved  Use  still  more  ;  for  she 
feared  the  consequences,  and,  besides,  it  pained  her 
that  he  would  not  accede  to  her  wishes.  When,  after- 


K 


THE    WOOING.  .    201 

wards,  she  learnt  that  he  had  secretly  sent  to  Rossau 
for  a  surgeon,  tears  came  into  her  eyes,  for  she  con- 
sidered it  as  a  slight.  She  knew  the  pernicious  rem- 
edies of  the  drunken  quack  and  she  was  sure,  that 
evil  would  result  from  it.  She  struggled  with  herself 
until  evening  ;  at  last,  anxiety  for  her  beloved  over- 
came all  considerations,  and  when  he  was  sitting  with 
the  children  in  the  arbor,  she,  with  anguish  of  heart 
and  downcast  eyes,  thus  entreated  him  :  "This  stranger 
will  occasion  you  greater  pain.  I  pray  you,  let  me 
see  the  wound." 

The  Professor,  alarmed  at  this  prospect  which 
threatened  to  upset  all  the  self-control  which  he  had 
attained  by  laborious  struggling,  answered,  as  Use 
fancied,  in  a  harsh  tone — but,  in  truth,  he  was  only  a 
little  hoarse  through  inward  emotion — "  I  thank  you, 
but  I  cannot  allow  that." 

Use  then  caught  hold  of  her  brother  and  sister  who 
had  been  in  the  hands  of  the  gypsies,  placed  them  be- 
fore him,  and  exclaimed  eagerly :  "  Do  you  beseech 
him,  if  he  will  not  listen  to  me." 

This  little  scene  was  so  moving  to  the  Professor, 
and  Use  looked,  in  her  excitement,  so  irresistibly 
lovely,  that  his  composure  was  overpowered  ;  and  in 
order  to  remain  faithful  to  her  father,  he  rose  and 
went  rapidly  out  of  the  garden. 

Use  pressed  her  hands  convulsively  together  and 
gazed  wildly  before  her.  All  had  been  a  dream  ;  the 
hope  she  had  entertained  in  a  happy  hour  that  he 
loved  her  had  been  a  delusion.  She  had  revealed  her 
heart  to  him,  and  her  warm  feelings  had  appeared  to 
him  as  the  bold  forwardness  of  a  stranger.  She  was 
in  his  eyes  an  awkward  country  girl,  deficient  in  the 
refined  tact  of  the  city,  who  had  got  something  into 


202  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

her  foolish  head  because  he  had  sometimes  spoken  to 
her  kindly.  She  rushed  into  her  room.  There  she 
sank  down  before  her  couch  and  her  whole  frame 
shook  with  convulsive  sobs. 

She  was  not  visible  for  the  rest  of  the  evening. 
The  following  day  she  met  the  loved  one  proudly  and 
coldly,  said  no  more  than  was  necessary  and  struggled 
secretly  with  tears  and  endless  sorrow. 

All  had  been  arranged  for  a  refined  and  tender 
wooing.  But  when  two  human  beings  love  one  another 
they  ought  to  tell  each  other  so,  frankly  and  simply, 
without  any  previous  arrangement,  and,  indeed — 

without  reserve. 

* 
*  * 

The  father  had  started  on  his  journey.  He  gave 
as  an  excuse  some  business  that  he  meant  to  transact 
on  the  road.  The  day  following  his  massive  form  and 
anxious  countenance  might  be  seen  in  the  streets  of 
the  University  town.  Gabriel  was  much  astonished 
when  the  gigantic  man,  taller  than  his  old  friend  the 
sergeant-major  of  the  cuirassiers,  rang  at  the  door  and 
brought  a  letter  from  his  master,  in  which  Gabriel  was 
instructed  to  place  himself  and  the  lodging  at  the  dis- 
posal of  the  gentleman.  The  stranger  walked  through 
the  rooms,  sat  down  at  the  Professor's  writing-table 
and  began  a  cross-questioning  conversation  with  Ga- 
briel, the  tenor  of  which  the  servant  could  not  under- 
stand. The  stranger  also  greeted  Mr.  Hummel,  then 
went  to  the  University,  stopped  the  students  in  the 
street  and  made  inquiries  of  them  ;  had  a  conference 
with  the  lawyer;  visited  a  merchant  with  whom  he 
had  had  dealings  in  corn ;  was  conducted  by  Gabriel 
to  the  Professor's  tailor,  there  to  order  a  coat,  and 
Gabriel  had  to  wait  long  at  the  door  before  the  gossip- 


THE    WOOING. 


203 


ing  tailor  would  let  the  stranger  go.  He  also  went  to 
Mr.  Hahn  to  buy  a  straw  hat ;  and  in  the  evening  the 
tall  figure  might  be  seen  uncomfortably  bent  under 
the  Chinese  temple,  conversing  with  Mr.  Hahn,  over 
a  flask  of  wine.  It  was  a  poor  father  anxiously  seek- 
ing from  indifferent  people  intelligence  which  should 
determine  whether  he  should  give  his  beloved  child 
into  the  arms  of  a  stranger.  What  he  learnt  was  even 
more  favorable  than  he  expected.  He  now  discovered 
what  Mrs.  Rollmaus  had  long  known,  that  he  whom 
he  had  received  into  his  home  was,  according  to  the 
opinion  of  others,  no  common  man. 

When,  on  returning  home,  the  evening  of  the  fol- 
lowing day,  he  reached  the  first  houses  of  Rossau,  he 
saw  a  figure  hastening  towards  him.  It  was  the  Pro- 
fessor, who,  in  impatient  expectation,  had  come  to 
meet  him  and  now  hastened  up  to  the  carriage  with 
disturbed  countenance.  The  Proprietor  sprang  from 
his  seat  and  said  gently  to  the  Professor  : 

"  Remain  with  us,  and  may  Heaven  give  you  every 
blessing." 

As  the  two  men  walked  up  the  foot-path  together, 
the  Proprietor  continued,  with  a  sudden  flash  of  good 
humor  : 

"You  have  compelled  me,  dear  Professor,  to  act 
as  a  spy  about  your  dwelling-place.  I  have  learned 
that  you  lead  a  quiet  life,  and  that  you  pay  your  bills 
punctually.  Your  servant  speaks  reverentially  of  you, 
and  you  stand  high  in  the  opinion  of  your  neighbors. 
In  the  city  you  are  spoken  of  as  a  distinguished  man, 
and  what  you  have  said  of  yourself  is  in  all  respects 
confirmed.  Your  lodgings  are  very  handsome,  the 
kitchen  is  too  small,  and  your  storeroom  is  smaller 


204  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

than  one  of  our  cupboards.  From  your  windows  you 
have  at  least  some  view  of  the  country." 

Beyond  this  not  a  word  was  spoken  concerning  the 
object  of  the  journey,  but  the  Professor  listened  hope- 
fully to  the  other  observations  of  the  Proprietor,  how 
opulent  were  the  citizens,  and  how  brilliant  the  shops, 
also  of  the  height  of  the  houses  in  the  market-place, 
the  throngs  of  people  in  the  streets,  and  of  the  pigeons, 
which,  according  to  old  custom,  were  kept  by  the 
town  council,  and  boldly  hopped  about  like  officials 
among  the  carriages  and  passing  human  beings. 

It  was  early  morning,  and  again  the  first  rays  of  the 
sun  warmed  the  earth.  After  a  sleepless  night,  Use 
hastened  through  the  garden  to  the  little  bath-house 
that  her  father  had  built  among  the  reeds  and  bushes. 
There  she  bathed  her  white  limbs  in  the  water,  dressed 
herself  quickly  and  ascended  the  path  which  passed 
by  the  grotto  to  the  top  of  the  hill,  seeking  the  rays  of 
the  sun.  As  she  knew  that  the  cool  night  air  still  lay 
in  the  lower  ground,  she  climbed  still  higher,  where 
the  hill  sloped  steeply  towards  the  grotto  down  into 
the  valley.  There,  on  the  declivity,  among  the  copse, 
she  seated  herself,  far  from  every  human  eye,  drying 
her  hair  in  the  sun's  rays  and  arranging  her  morning 
attire. 

She  gazed  upon  her  father's  house  where  she  sup- 
posed the  friend  still  lay  slumbering,  and  looked  down 
before  her  on  the  stone  roof  of  the  grotto,  and  on  the 
large  tuft  of  the  willow  rose,  with  the  white  wool  of  its 
seed  bursting  from  the  pod.  She  supported  her  head 
on  her  hand,  and  thought  of  the  evening  that  had 
past.  How  little  he  had  spoken,  and  her  father  had 
scarcely  mentioned  his  journey.  But  whatever  an- 
xious cares  passed  through  her  mind,  her  spirits  had 


THE    WOOING. 


205 


been  refreshed  by  the  sparkling  water,  and  now  the 
morning  cast  its  mild  light  over  her  heart. 

There  sat  the  child  of  the  house.  She  wrung  the 
water  out  of  her  hair  and  rested  her  white  feet  on  the 
moss.  Near  her  the  bees  hummed  over  the  wild  thyme, 
and  one  little  worker  circled  threateningly  round  her 
feet.  Use  moved,  and  pushed  one  of  her  shoes ;  the 
shoe  slid  down,  turned  a  somersault,  and  went  bound- 
ing away  over  moss  and  stone,  till  it  leapt  by  the  wil- 
low rose  and  disappeared  in  the  depth.  She  put  on 
the  fellow  of  the  fugitive  and  hastened  along  the  path 
to  the  grotto.  Turning  round  the  corner  of  the  rock 
she  stepped  back  startled,  for  in  front  of  the  grotto 
stood  the  Professor,  thoughtfully  contemplating  the 
embroidered  arabesques  of  the  shoe.  The  sensitive 
man  was  scarcely  less  startled  than  Use  at  this  sudden 
encounter.  He  also  had  been  impelled  to  go  out 
into  the  early  morning,  to  the  spot  where  first  the 
heart  of  the  maiden  had  revealed  itself  to  him.  He 
had  seated  himself  on  a  stone  at  the  entrance,  and 
leaned  his  head  against  the  rock  in  deep  and  sorrow- 
ful thought.  Then  he  heard  a  soft  rustling,  and, 
amidst  gravel  and  sand,  the  little  masterpiece  of  art 
fell  close  to  his  feet.  He  hastened  forward,  for  he 
guessed  at  once  to  whom  the  bounding  shoe  belonged. 
There  he  saw  the  loved  one  standing  before  him,  in  a 
light  morning  dress,  enveloped  in  her  long  blond  hair, 
like  a  water  fairy  or  a  mountain  nymph. 

"It  is  my  shoe,"  said  Use,  with  embarrassment, 
concealing  her  foot. 

"  I  know  it,"  said  the  man  of  learning,  equally  em- 
barrassed, pushing  the  shoe  reverently  to  the  border 
of  her  dress.  The  shoe  was  quickly  slipped  on,  but 
the  short  glimpse  of  the  white  foot  suddenly  gave  the 


206  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

Professor  heroic  courage,  such  as  he  had  not  had  for 
the  last  few  days. 

"  I  will  not  move  from  this  spot,"  he  cried,  reso- 
lutely. 

Use  drew  back  into  the  grotto  and  gathered  her 
hair  into  the  net  she  held  in  her  hand.  The  Professor 
stood  at  the  entrance  of  the  sanctuary  ;  near  him  hung 
the  long  shoots  of  the  blackberry,  the  bees  hummed 
over  the  wild  thyme,  and  his  heart  beat.  When  Use, 
with  blushing  cheeks,  stepped  out  of  the  grotto  into 
the  light  of  day,  she  heard  her  name  uttered  by  a  voice 
in  deep  emotion,  she  felt  her  hand  pressed,  an  ardent 
look  shot  from  those  true  eyes,  sweet  words  fell  from 
his  lips,  his  arm  clasped  her,  and  she  sank  silently  on 

his  heart. 

# 
*  * 

As  the  Professor  himself  on  another  occasion  had 
explained,  man  sometimes  forgets  that  his  life  rests 
on  a  compact  with  the  overwhelming  powers  of  nature, 
which,  unawares,  influence  the  little  lords  of  the  world. 
Thus  similar  unexpected  powers  now  controlled  the 
Professor  and  Use.  I  know  not  what  agencies  of  na- 
ture sent  the  bees,  or  threw  the  shoe.  Was  it  the 
elves  in  whom  Use  did  not  believe  ?  Or  was  it  one 
of  the  antique  acquaintances  of  the  Professor,  the 
goat-footed  Pan,  who  blew  his  reed-pipes  in  the  grotto  ? 

The  wooing  had  begun  in  a  scientific  manner,  but 
it  had  been  brought  to  a  conclusion  with  little  wisdom 
and  without  any  regard  for  formality. 


C7 


CHAPTER  XL 

\ 

SPITEHAHN. 

RAVEN-BLACK  night  brooded  over  the  hostile  houses. 
The  world  looked  like  a  great  coal-pit  in  which  the 
lights  had  been  extinguished.  The  wind  howled 
through  the  trees  of  the  park.  A  rustling  of  leaves 
and  crackling  of  branches  was  heard.  Nothing  was 
to  be  seen  but  a  monstrous  black  curtain  that  con- 
cealed the  neighboring  woods  and  a  black-tented  roof 
which  was  spread  over  the  houses.  The  streets  of  the 
city  were  empty.  All  who  loved  their  beds  had  long 
been  lying  therein,  and  whoever  possessed  a  nightcap 
had  now  pulled  it  over  his  ears.  Every  human  sound 
was  silenced ;  the  striking  of  the  tower-clock  was 
interrupted  by  the  stormy  winds,  and  each  tone  was 
driven  hither  and  thither,  that  no  one  could  count  the 
midnight  hour.  But  around  the  house  of  Mr.  Hum- 
mel the  yelping  dogs  pursued  their  wild  career  in  the 
courtyard,  undaunted  by  storm  or  darkness  ;  and  when 
the  wind  blew  like  a  bugle-horn  between  the  houses, 
the  pack  dispelled  sleep  from  men  by  their  clamor  and 
din. 

"This  night  suits  them  well,"  thought  Gabriel,  in 
his  room.  "This  is  just  the  weather  for  them."  At 
last  he  slept,  and  dreamt  that  the  two  dogs  opened 
the  door  of  his  room,  placed  themselves  on  two  chairs 
before  his  bed  and  alternately  snapped  their  pocket 
pistols  at  him. 

As  he  was  lying  in  this  unquiet  sleep,  there  was  a 
knock  at  his  door. 

"  Get  up,  Gabriel !  "  called  out  the  old  porter  from 
the  factory;  "an  accident  has  happened." 


[7 


208  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"Through  the  dogs,"  exclaimed  Gabriel,  spring- 
ing out  of  bed. 

"Some  one  must  have  broken  in,"  cried  the  man 
again,  through  the  door,  "the  dogs  are  lying  on  the 
ground." 

Gabriel,  alarmed,  put  on  his  boots  and  hastened 
into  the  yard,  which  was  dimly  lighted  by  the  dawn. 
There  lay  the  two  poor  watch-dogs  on  the  ground,  with 
no  other  sign  of  life  than  helpless  writhing.  Gabriel 
ran  to  the  warehouse,  examined  the  door  and  windows, 
and  then  the  house  ;  every  shutter  was  closed,  and  no 
sign  of  disturbance  could  be  discovered.  When  he 
returned,  Mr.  Hummel  was  standing  before  the  pros- 
trate dogs. 

"Gabriel,  a  dastardly  deed  has  been  perpetrated 
here.  Something  has  been  done  to  the  dogs.  Let 
them  both  lie  there  ;  an  investigation  must  be  made. 
I  will  send  for  the  police." 

"Indeed?"  answered  Gabriel;  "compassion 
should  come  first,  then  the  police.  Perhaps  some- 
thing may  yet  be  done  for  the  poor  brutes." 

He  took  the  two  animals,  carried  them  to  the  light, 
and  examined  their  condition. 

"The  black  one  is  done  for,"  he  said,  compas- 
sionately. "The  red  one  has  still  some  life  in  him." 

"Go  to  the  veterinary  surgeon,  Klaus,"  exclaimed 
•Mr.  Hummel,  "and  ask  him  to  do  me  the  favor  to 
get  up  at  once  ;  he  shall  be  remunerated.  This  case 
must  be  put  into  the  morning  paper.  I  require  satis- 
faction before  the  magistracy  and  town  council.  — 
Gabriel,"  he  continued,  in  angry  excitement,  "the  dogs 
of  citizens  are  being  murdered  :  it  is  the  work  of  low 
malice,  but  I  am  not  the  man  to  put  up  with  such  as- 
sassins. They  shall  be  made  an  example  of,  Gabriel." 


[ 


SPITEHAHN.  209 

Meanwhile  Gabriel  stroked  the  fur  of  the  red  dog, 
which  rolled  its  eyes  wildly  under  its  shaggy  brow  and 
stretched  out  its  paws  piteously. 

At  last  the  veterinary  surgeon  came.  He  found 
the  whole  family  assembled  in  the  court.  Mrs.  Hum- 
mel, still  in  her  night-dress,  brought  him  a  cup  of 
coffee,  while  drinking  which  he  sympathized  with  them, 
and  then  began  the  examination.  The  verdict  of  the 
expert  pointed  to  poisoning.  The  dissection  showed 
that  a  little  dumpling  with  arsenic  had  been  eaten, 
and,  what  vexed  Mr.  Hummel  still  more,  there  were 
glass  splinters  besides.  For  the  red  dog  there  was  a 
doubtful  prospect  of  recovery. 

It  was  a  gloomy  morning  for  the  Hummel  family. 
Before  breakfast  Mr.  Hummel  sat  down  to  his  writing 
table  and  wrote  out  an  advertisement  for  the  daily  pa- 
per, in  which  ten  dollars  reward  was  offered  to  any 
one  who  would  make  known  the  name  of  the  malig- 
nant poisoner  of  his  dog.  The  ten  dollars  were  un- 
derlined with  three  dashes.  Then  he  went  to  his  win- 
dow and  looked  savagely  upon  the  haunts  of  his  op- 
ponent and  on  the  Chinese  temple  which  had  been  the 
occasion  of  this  new  disturbance.  Finally  he  began 
to  pace  up  and  down  the  room,  turning  to  his  wife  as 
he  passed  and  muttering  : 

"I  have  not  the  slightest  doubt  about  the  matter 
—  not  the  slightest  doubt.  " 

"I  do  not  understand  you,"  answered  his  wife, 
who  on  this  trying  morning  was  taking  a  second  break- 
fast ;  "and  I  do  not  understand  how  you  can  be  so 
positive  in  this  matter.  It  is  true,  there  is  something 
about  those  people  that  has  always  been  repugnant  to 
us,  and  it  may  be  a  misfortune  to  have  such  neighbors. 
But  you  have  no  right  to  assume  that  they  have  poi- 


210  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

soned  the  dogs.  I  cannot  think  that  such  an  idea 
could  have  entered  into  the  head  of  Mrs.  Hahn.  I 
admit  that  she  is  an  ordinary  woman.  Moreover,  the 
doctor  says  it  was  dumpiings ;  which  points  to  a  woman 
as  the  guilty  person.  But  when  our  red  dog  was 
caught  running  off  with  the  snipe  they  were  going  to 
have  for  dinner,  she  sent  me  back  the  dog  with  her  com- 
pliments, saying  she  thought  it  was  not  good  behavior 
in  him,  as  he  had  eaten  three  of  the  birds.  That  was 
civil,  and  I  can  find  no  murderous  intention  in  it. 
And  he  surely  does  not  look  as  if  he  would  do  any- 
thing to  our  dogs  at  midnight." 

"He  is  a  treacherous  fellow,"  growled  Mr.  Hum- 
mel; "but  you  have  always  had  your  own  opinion 
about  those  people.  He  has  played  the  hypocrite  to- 
ward me  from  the  very  first  day,  when  he  stood  by  his 
pile  of  bricks  before  these  windows  and  turned  his 
back  upon  me.  I  have  always  allowed  myself  to  be 
persuaded  by  you  women  to  treat  him  as  a  neighbor, 
with  greetings  and  civil  speeches ;  and  1  have  always 
been  silent  when  you  have  carried  on  your  idle  gossip 
with  the  woman  over  there." 

"Our  idle  gossip,  Henry,"  exclaimed  the  wife,  set- 
ting down  her  coffee-cup  with  a  clatter  ;  "I  must  beg 
of  you  not  to  forget  the  respect  that  is  due  to  me." 

"Well,  well,  I  meant  no  slight,"  Mr.  Hummel 
hastened  to  add,  hoping  to  allay  the  storm  which  he 
had  inopportunely  brought  upon  himself 

"What  you  meant,  you,  of  course,  know.  I  take 
it  as  I  heard  it.  But  it  shows  little  feeling  in  you,  Mr. 
Hummel,  for  the  sake  of  a  dead  dog  to  treat  your  wife 
and  daughter  as  idle  gossips." 

This  disagreement  added  still  more  to  the  gloom 
and  ill-humor  of  the  morning,  but  did  not  in  any  way 


•    SPITEHAHN.  211 

advance  the  discovery  of  the  culprit.  It  was  in  vain 
that  the  mistress  of  the  house,  in  order  to  divert  her 
husband's  suspicions  from  the  Hahn  family,  raised 
many  other  conjectures,  and,  with  Laura's  help,  tried 
to  throw  the  blame  on  their  own  employes  or  the 
watchman,  and  that  she  at  last  suggested  even  the 
shop-porter  over  the  way  as  the  possible  evil-doer. 
Alas  !  the  reputation  of  the  dogs  was  so  dreadful  that 
the  Hummel  family  could  more  easily  count  the  few 
people  who  did  not  wish  evil  to  the  dogs,  than  the  many 
whose  wish  and  interest  it  was  to  see  the  monsters 
at  the  bottom  of  Cocytus.  The  news  ran  like  wildfire 
through  the  streets,  a  crowd  gathered  around  the 
fruit-woman  at  the  corner,  and  people  spoke  of  the 
evil  deed  everywhere,  pitilessly,  hostilely,  and  mali- 
ciously. Even  among  those  in  the  streets  who  tried 
to  show  outward  signs  of  sympathy,  the  prevailing 
feeling  was  hardly  concealed.  It  is  true  there  were 
some  sympathisers.  First  Mrs.  Knips,  the  washer- 
woman, with  voluble  indignation  ;  then  even  Knips 
the  younger  ventured  pityingly  into  the  neighborhood 
of  the  house — he  was  clerk  in  the  hostile  business, 
having  gone  over  to  the  enemy,  but  never  ceased  to 
show  respect  to  his  former  instructor  on  all  occasions, 
and  to  pay  unacceptable  homage  to  Miss  Laura.  At 
last  the  comedian  of  the  theatre,  whom  they  generally 
invited  on  Sundays,  came,  and  related  many  amusing 
stories.  But  even  these  few  faithful  adherents  were  sus- 
pected by  some  of  the  household.  Gabriel  distrusted 
the  Knips  family,  while  Laura  detested  the  clerk,  and 
the  comedian,  formerly  a  welcome  guest,  had,  some 
evenings  before,  in  passing  by,  inconsiderately  ex- 
pressed to  a  companion,  that  it  would  be  a  praise- 
worthy deed  to  remove  these  dogs  from  the  stage  of 


212  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

life.  Now  this  unhappy  suggestion  was  repeated  to 
the  mistress  of  the  house,  and  it  lay  heavy  on  her 
heart.  For  fifteen  years  she  had  accepted  this  man's 
homage  with  pleasure,  shown  him  much  friendliness, 
and  given  him  enthusiastic  applause  at  the  theatre, 
not  to  speak  of  the  Sunday  dinners  and  preserves.  But 
now  when  the  gentleman  lowered  his  head  sympa- 
thisingly  and  expressed  his  horror  and  indignation 
at  the  deed,  his  face,  from  the  long  habit  of  comic 
action,  lengthened  itself  so  hypocritically,  that  Mrs. 
Hummel  suddenly  fancied  she  saw  a  devil  grinning 
out  of  the  features  of  the  once  esteemed  man.  Her 
sharp  remarks  about  Judases  frightened  in  turn  the 
comedian,  revealing  to  him  the  danger  of  losing  his 
best  house  of  entertainment,  and  the  more  dolorous 
he  felt,  the  more  equivocal  became  his  expression. 

During  all  these  occurrences  the  Hahn  family  kept 
quiet  in  the  background.  They  displayed  no  signs  of 
undue  pleasure,  and  no  unnatural  sympathy  came 
from  the  silent  walls.  But  at  mid-day,  when  Mrs. 
Hummel  went  to  refresh  herself  a  little  in  the  air,  she 
met  her  neighbor ;  and  Mrs.  Hahn,  who  since  the 
garden  scene  had  felt  herself  in  the  wrong,  stopped 
and  expressed  her  regret  in  a  friendly  way  that  Mrs. 
Hummel  had  experienced  such  an  unpleasant  acci- 
dent. But  the  hostile  feeling  and  suspicion  of  her 
husband  echoed  in  the  answer.  Mrs.  Hummel  spoke 
coldly,  and  both  separated  with  a  feeling  of  animosity. 

Meanwhile  Laura  sat  at  her  writing-table,  and  noted 
down  in  her  private  journal  the  events  of  the  day,  and 
with  a  light  heart  she  concluded  with  these  lines  : 

"They're  dead  and  gone  !    Removed  the  curse  of  hate — 
Erased  the  stain  is  from  the  book  of  fate." 


SPITEHAHN.  213 

This  prophecy  contained  about  as  much  truth  as 
if,  after  the  first  skirmish  of  the  siege  of  Troy,  Cas- 
sandra had  noted  it  down  in  Hector's  alburn.  It  was 
confuted  by  the  endless  horrors  of  the  future. 

Spitehahn  at  all  events  was  not  gone  ;  his  life  was 
saved.  But  the  night's  treachery  had  exercised  a  sor 
rowful  influence  on  the  creature,  both  body  and  soul. 
He  had  never  been  beautiful.  But  now  his  body  was 
thin,  his  head  swelled,  and  his  shaggy  coat  bristly. 
The  glass  splinters  which  the  skillful  doctor  had  re- 
moved from  his  stomach  seemed  to  have  gotten  some- 
how into  his  hairs,  so  that  they  started  bristling  from 
his  body  like  a  bottle-brush  ;  his  curly  tail  became 
bare,  only  at  the  end  did  there  remain  a  tuft  of  hair, 
like  a  bent  cork-screw  with  a  cork  at  the  end.  He 
no  longer  wagged  his  tail ;  his  yelping  ceased  ;  night 
and  day  he  roved  about  silently ;  only  occasionally  a 
low,  significant  growl  was  heard.  He  came  back  to 
life,  but  all  softer  feelings  were  dead  in  him  ;  he  be- 
came averse  to  human  beings,  and  fostered  dark  sus- 
picions in  his  soul ;  all  attachment  and  fidelity  ceased  ; 
instead  of  which  he  evinced  a  lurking  malice  and  gen- 
eral vindictiveness.  Yet  Mr.  Hummel  did  not  mind 
this  change  ;  the  dog  was  the  victim  of  unheard-of 
wickedness,  which  had  been  intended  for  the  injury  of 
himself,  the  proprietor  of  the  house  ;  and  had  he  been 
ten  times  more  hideous  and  savage  to  human  beings, 
Mr.  Hummel  would  still  have  made  a  pet  of  him.  He 
stroked  him,  and  did  not  take  it  amiss  when  the  dog 
showed  his  gratitude  by  snapping  at  the  fingers  of  his 
master. 

Whilst  the  flames  of  just  irritation  still  shot  forth 
from  this  new  firebrand  of  the  family  peace,  Fritz  re- 
turned from  his  vacation.  His  mother  immediately 


214 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


related  to  him  all  the  events  of  the  last  few  weeks — 
the  bell-ringing,  the  dogs,  the  new  hostility. 

"  It  was  well  that  you  were  away.  Were  the  beds 
at  the  inns  comfortable  ?  They  are  so  careless  now- 
adays of  strangers.  I  hope  that  in  the  country,  where 
they  rear  geese,  people  show  more  care.  You  must 
talk  to  your  father  about  this  new  quarrel,  and  do 
what  you  can  to  restore  peace." 

Fritz  listened  silently  to  his  mother's  account,  and 
said  soothingly  : 

"You  know  it  is  not  the  first  time.  It  will  pass 
over. " 

This  news  did  not  contribute  to  increase  the  cheer- 
fulness of  the  Doctor.  Sadly  he  looked  from  his  room 
on  the  neighboring  house  and  the  windows  of  his  friend. 
In  a  short  time  a  new  household  would  be  established 
there  ;  might  not  then  his  friendship  with  the  Profes- 
sor be  affected  by  the  disturbances  which  of  old  existed 
between  the  two  houses  ?  He  then  began  to  arrange 
the  notes  that  he  had  collected  on  his  journey.  But  to- 
day the  footprints  of  the  grotto  gave  him  an  uncomfort- 
able feeling,  and  the  tales  of  the  wild  hunters  made  him 
think  of  Use's  wise  words,  "It  is  all  superstition." 
He  put  away  his  papers,  seized  his  hat,  and  went  out, 
meditating,  and  not  exactly  gaily  disposed,  into  the 
park.  When  he  saw  Laura  Hummel  a  few  steps  be- 
fore him  on  the  same  path,  he  turned  aside,  in  order 
not  to  meet  any  one  from  the  hostile  house. 

Laura  was  carrying  a  little  basket  of  fruit  to  her 
godmother.  The  old  lady  resided  in  her  summer  house 
in  an  adjacent  village,  and  a  shady  footpath  through  the 
park  led  to  it.  It  was  lonely  at  this  hour  in  the  wood, 
and  the  birds  alone  saw  how  free  from  care  was  the 
smile  that  played  around  the  little  mouth  of  the  agile 


SPITEHAHN. 


215 


girl,  and  how  full  of  glee  were  the  beautiful  deep  blue 
eyes  that  peered  into  the  thicket.  But  although  Laura 
seemed  to  hasten,  she  stopped  frequently.  First  it 
occurred  to  her  that  the  leaves  of  the  copper  beech 
would  look  well  in  her  brown  felt  hat  ;  she  broke  off  a 
branch,  took  off  her  hat,  and  stuck  the  leaves  on  it ; 
and  in  order  to  give  herself  the  pleasure  of  looking  at 
it,  she  held  her  hat  in  her  hand  and  put  a  gauze  hand- 
kerchief over  her  head  for  protection  against  the 
rays  of  the  sun.  She  admired  the  chequered  light 
thrown  by  the  sun  on*  the  road.  Then  a  squirrel  ran 
across  the  path,  scrambled  quick  as  lightning  up  a 
tree  and  hid  itself  in  the  branches;  Laura  looked 
up  and  perceived  its  beautiful  bushy  tail  through  the 
foliage,  and  fancied  herself  on  the  top  of  the  tree, 
in  the  midst  of  the  foliage  and  fruit,  swinging  on  a 
branch,  then  leaping  from  bough  to  bough,  and  finally 
taking  a  walk — high  in  the  air,  on  the  tops  of  the 
trees — over  the  fluttering  leaves  as  though  upon  green 
hills. 

When  she  came  near  the  water  that  flowed  on  the 
other  side  of  the  path,  she  perceived  that  a  large  num- 
ber of  frogs,  sitting  in  the  sun  on  the  bank,  sprang 
into  the  water  with  great  leaps,  as  if  by  word  of  com- 
mand. She  ran  up  to  them  and  saw  with  astonish- 
ment that  in  the  water,  they  had  a  different  ap- 
pearance ;  they  were  not  at  all  so  clumsy  ;  they  went 
along  like  little  gentlemen  with  big  stomachs  and 
thick  necks,  but  with  long  legs  which  struck  out  vig- 
orously. Then  when  a  large  frog  steered  up  to  her 
and  popped  his  head  out  of  the  water,  she  drew  back 
and  laughed  at  herself.  Thus  she  passed  through  the 
wood,  herself  a  butterfly,  and  at  peace  with  all  the 
world. 


[? 


2l6  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

But  her  fate  pursued  her.  Spitehahn,  from  his 
usual  place  on  the  stone  steps,  had  watched  her  move- 
ments from  under  the  wild  hairs  that  hung  over  his 
head  whisker-like,  he  kept  her  in  view,  got  up  at  last 
and  trotted  silently  behind  her,  undisturbed  by  the  rays 
of  the  sun,  the  basket  of  fruit,  or  the  red  handkerchief 
of  his  young  mistress.  Between  the  town  and  the 
village  the  road  ascended  from  the  valley  and  its  trees 
to  a  bare  plain,  on  which  the  soldiery  of  the  town 
sometimes  manoeuvred,  and  where  in  peaceful  ho«urs 
a  shepherd  pastured  his  flock.  The  path  ran  obliquely 
over  the  open  plain  to  the  village.  Laura  stopped  on 
the  height  at  times  to  admire  the  distant  sheep  and 
the  brown  shepherd,  who  looked  very  picturesque  with 
his  large  hat  and  crook.  She  had  already  passed  the 
flock  when  she  heard  a  barking  and  threatening  cry 
behind  her;  turning  round  she  saw  the  peaceful 
community  in  wild  uproar.  The  sheep  scattered  in 
all  directions  —  some  running  away  frightened,  others 
huddled  together  in  a  ditch;  the  shepherd's  dogs 
barked,  and  the  shepherd  and  his  boy  ran  with  raised 
sticks  around  the  disturbed  flock.  While  Laura  was 
looking  astonished  at  {he  tumult,  the  shepherd  and 
his  boy  rushed  up  to  her,  followed  by  two  large  dogs. 
She  felt  herself  seized  by  a  rough  man's  hand  ;  she 
saw  the  angry  face  of  the  shepherd,  and  his  stick  was 
brandished  close  before  her  eyes. 

"Your  dog  has  dispersed  my  flock.  I  demand 
punishment  and  compensation." 

Frightened  and  pale  as  death,  Laura  sought  for 
her  purse  ;  she  could  scarcely  find  words  to  say,  "  I 
have  no  dog;  let  me  go,  good  shepherd." 

But  the  man  shook  her  arm  roughly.     Two  gigantic 


SPITEHAHN. 


2I7 


black  dogs  sprang  upon  her  and  snapped  at  her  hand- 
kerchief. 

"It  is  your  dog  ;  I  know  the  red  rascal,"  cried  the 
shepherd. 

This  was  quite  true,  for  Spitehahn  had  also  ob- 
served the  flock  of  sheep  and  devised  his  dire  plan. 
Suddenly,  with  a  hoarse  yell,  he  sprang  on  a  sheep 
and  bit  it  severely  in  the  leg.  Then  followed  the  flight 
of  the  flock,  rushing  together  in  a  heap — Spitehahn  in 
the  midst  of  them,  barking,  scratching  and  biting,  the 
brute  sped  along  a  dry  ditch  to  the  left,  and  finally 
down  the  slope  to  the  wood  into  the  thickest  copse.  At 
length  he  trotted  home  in  safety,  showing  his  teeth, 
and  leaving  his  young  mistress  trembling  beneath  the 
hand  of  the  shepherd,  who  was  still  brandishing  his 
stick  over  her. 

''Let  go  of  the  young  lady,"  called  out  the  angry 
voice  of  a  man.  Fritz  Hahn  sprang  forward,  pushed 
back  the  arm  of  the  shepherd,  and  caught  Laura, 
fainting,  in  his  arms. 

The  interposition  of  a  third  party  drew  from  the 
shepherd  new  complaints,  at  the  conclusion  of  which 
he  again,  in  a  flaming  passion,  endeavored  to  lay  hold 
of  the  girl,  and  threatened  to  set  his  dogs  at  the  Doc- 
tor. But  Fritz,  deeply  roused,  exclaimed,  "Keep 
your  dogs  back,  and  behave  yourself  like  a  man,  or  I 
will  have  you  punished.  If  the  dog  injured  your  flock, 
adequate  compensation  shall  be  made.  I  am  ready  to 
be  security  to  you  or  to  the  owner  of  these  sheep." 

Thus  he  spoke,  holding  Laura  firmly  in  his  arms ; 
her  head  lay  upon  his  shoulders,  and  the  red  hand- 
kerchief hung  over  his  waistcoat  down  to  his  breast. 
"Compose  yourself,  dear  Miss,"  he  said,  with  tender 
anxiety. 


2l8  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

Laura  raised  her  head  and  looked  fearfully  on  the 
countenance  which,  excited  with  tenderness  and  sym- 
pathy, bent  over  her,  and  she  perceived  her  situation 
with  alarm.  Fearful  fate  !  He  again,  for  the  third 
time,  the  inevitable  friend  and  preserver  !  She  extri- 
cated herself  from  him,  and  said,  in  a  faint  voice,  "I 
thank  you,  Doctor,  I  can  walk  alone  now. " 

"No,  I  cannot  leave  you  thus,"  cried  Fritz,  and 
again  began  to  negotiate  with  the  shepherd,  who 
meanwhile  had  fetched  the  two  victims  of  the  mur- 
derous dog,  and  laid  them  down  as  proofs  of  the  ill 
deed.  Fritz  put  his  hand  into  his  pocket  and  handed 
the  shepherd  a  part  of  the  money  promised  as  com- 
pensation, gave  him  his  name,  and  settled  a  future 
meeting  with  the  man,  who,  after  the  appearance  of 
the  money,  became  more  calm. 

"I  pray  you  take  my  arm,"  he  said,  turning  chiv- 
alrously to  Laura. 

"  I  cannot  accept  that,"  replied  the  girl,  quite  con- 
fused, and  thinking  of  the  existing  hostility. 

"It  is  only  my  duty  as  a  man,"  said  Fritz,  sooth- 
ingly. "You  are  too  exhausted  to  go  alone." 

"Then  I  beg  of  you  to  take  me  to  my  godmother; 
she  lives  near  here." 

Fritz  took  the  little  basket  from  her,  collected  the 
fruit  that  had  fallen  out,  and  then  conducted  her  to 
the  village. 

"I  should  not  have  been  so  much  afraid  of  the 
man,"  said  Laura,  "but  the  black  dogs  were  so  fear- 
ful." 

She  took  his  arm  hesitatingly  ;  for  now,  when  the 
fright  had  passed,  she  felt  the  painfulness  of  her  situa- 
tion, and  was  alas  !  conscience-smitten.  For  early  in 
the  day  she  had  thought  the  travelling  toilet  of  the  Doc- 


SPITEHAHN.  219 

tor,  as  she  saw  him  return  home,  unendurable;  but 
Fritz  was  not  a  man  who  could  long  be  considered 
unendurable.  He  was  now  full  of  tender  feelings  and 
care  for  her,  endeavored  to  spare  her  every  roughness 
on  the  road,  stretching  out  his  foot  in  going  along  to 
put  the  little  stones  out  of  the  way.  He  began  an  in- 
different conversation  about  her  godmother,  which 
obliged  her  to  talk,  and  brought  other  thoughts  into 
her  head.  It  happened  besides,  that  he  himsel£highly 
esteemed  the  lady  in  question.  Indeed,  she  had  once, 
when  he  was  a  schoolboy,  given  him  a  cherry-cake 
and  he  had  in  return  composed  a  poem  on  her  birth- 
day. At  the  word  poem  Laura  was  astounded.  In 
that  house,  too!  Could  they  write  poetry?  But  then 
the  Doctor  spoke  very  slightingly  of  the  elevating 
creations  of  happier  hours,  and  when  she  asked  him  : 

"  Have  you  really  written  poetry  ?  " 

He  answered,  laughingly,  "Only  for  home  use, 
like  every  one.  " 

Then  she  felt  much  depressed  by  his  cold  disregard 
of  the  muse.  There  certainly  was  a  difference  be- 
tween one  style  of  verse  and  another  ;  at  Hahn's  they 
only  wrote  about  cherry-cakes.  But  immediately  after- 
wards she  blamed  herself  for  her  unbecoming  thoughts 
towards  her  benefactor.  So  she  turned  in  a  friendly 
way  to  him  and  spoke  of  the  pleasure  she  had  found 
just  before  in  watching  the  squirrels  of  the  wood.  She 
had  once  bought  one  of  a  boy  in  the  streets  and  had 
set  it  free,  and  the  little  animal  had  twice  sprung  from 
the  trees  upon  her  shoulders  ;  and  she  had  at  last  run 
away  with  tears  in  her  eyes,  that  it  might  remain  in 
the  woods.  Now,  when  she  saw  a  squirrel,  it  always 
appeared  as  if  it  belonged  to  her  ;  and  she  undoubt- 
edly deceived  herself  ;  but  the  squirrels  seemed  to  be 


220  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

of  the  same  opinion  with  regard  to  her.  This  story 
led  to  the  remarkable  discovery  that  the  Doctor  had 
had  a  similar  experience  with  a  small  owl,  and  he  imi- 
tated the  way  in  which  the  owl  nodded  its  head  when 
he  brought  in  its  food  ;  and  in  doing  so  his  spectacles 
looked  so  much  like  owl's  eyes  that  Laura  could  not 
help  laughing. 

Conversing  in  this  way  they  arrived  at  her  god- 
mother's house.  Fritz  relinquished  Laura's  arm  and 
wished  to  take  his  leave.  She  remained  standing 
on  the  threshold  with  her  hand  on  the  latch  and  said, 
in  an  embarrassed  tone  : 

"Will  you  not  come  in,  at  least  for  a  moment,  as 
you  know  my  godmother  ?" 

"With  pleasure,"  replied  the  Doctor. 

Her  godmother  was  sitting  in  her  summer  cottage, 
which  was  somewhat  smaller,  damper,  and  less  pleas- 
ant than  her  lodging  in  the  town.  When  the  children 
of  the  hostile  houses  entered  together  —  first  Laura, 
still  pale  and  solemn,  behind  her  the  Doctor  with  an 
equally  serious  countenance  —  the  good  lady  was  so 
astonished  that  she  sat  staring  on  the  sofa  and  could 
only  bring  out  the  words  : 

"What  do  I  see?  Is  it  possible?  You  two  chil- 
dren together  !  " 

This  exclamation  dispelled  the  magic  which  for  a 
moment  had  bound  the  young  souls  to  each  other. 
Laura  went  coldly  up  to  her  godmother  and  related 
how  the  Doctor  had  accidently  come  up  at  the  time  of 
her  distress.  But  the  Doctor  explained  that  he  had 
only  wished  to  bring  the  young  lady  safely  to  her  ; 
then  he  inquired  after  the  health  of  the  old  lady 
and  took  his  leave. 

While   her   godmother   was   applying  restoratives 


A 


SPITEHAHN.  221 

and  determining  that  Laura  should  return  home  an- 
other way  under  the  care  of  her  maid-servant,  the 
Doctor  went  back  with  light  steps  to  the  wood.  His 
frame  of  mind  was  entirely  changed  and  a  smile  fre- 
quently passed  over  his  countenance.  The  thought 
was  constantly  recurring  to  him  how  the  girl  had  rested 
in  his  arms.  He  had  felt  her  bosom  against  his  ;  her 
hair  had  touched  his  cheeks  and  he  had  gazed  on  her 
white  neck.  The  worthy  youth  blushed  at  the  thought 
and  hastened  his  steps.  In  one  thing  at  least  the  Profes- 
sor was  not  wrong  —  a  woman  is,  after  all,  very  different 
from  the  ideal  that  a  man  derives  from  the  study  of 
human  life  and  the  history  of  the  world.  It  certainly 
seemed  to  the  Doctor  now  that  there  was  something 
very  attractive  in  wavy  locks,  rosy  cheeks  and  a  beau- 
tiful form.  He  admitted  that  this  discovery  was  not 
new,  but  he  had  not  hithertp  felt  its  value  with  such 
distinctness.  It  had  been  so  touching  when  she  re- 
covered from  her  swoon,  opened  her  eyes  and  withdrew 
herself  bashfully  from  his  arms.  Also  his  having  de- 
fended her  so  valiantly  filled  him  with  cheerful  pride. 
He  stopped  on  the  field  of  battle  and  laughed  out  right 
heartily.  Then  he  went  along  the  same  road  by  which 
Laura  had  come  from  the  wood.  He  looked  along  the 
ground  as  if  he  could  discover  the  traces  of  her  little 
feet  upon  the  gravel,  and  he  enjoyed  the  brightness 
and  warmth  of  the  air,  the  alluring  song  of  the  birds, 
the  fluttering  of  the  dragon-flies,  with  as  light  a  heart 
as  his  pretty  neighbor  had  done  shortly  before.  Then 
the  recollection  of  his  friend  came  across  him.  He 
thought,  with  satisfaction,  of  the  agitations  of  the 
Professor's  mind  and  the  commotion  which  Thusnelda 
had  brought  into  it.  The  result  had  had  a  droll  effect 
upon  the  Professor.  His  friend  had  been  very  comical 


A 


222  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

in  the  pathos  of  his  rising  passion.  Such  a  firm, 
earnest  being  contrasted  curiously  with  the  whimsical 
attacks  which  fate  makes  on  the  life  of  earth-born 
creatures.  When  he  came  to  the  last  bush  in  which 
rustled  one  of  the  little  grasshoppers,  whose  chirping 
he  had  often  heard  in  times  of  anxiety,  he  spoke  out 
gaily,  "  Even  these  have  their  turn,  first  the  sheep,  then 
the  grasshoppers."  He  began  singing  half  aloud  a 
certain  old  song  in  which  the  grasshoppers  were  asked 
to  go  away  and  no  longer  to  burden  his  spirit.  Thus 
he  returned  home  from  his  walk  in  right  cheerful  frame 
of  mind,  like  a  man  of  the  world. 

"Henry,"  began  Mrs.  Hummel,  in  the  afternoon, 
solemnly  to  her  husband,  "  compose  yourself  to  listen 
to  a  terrible  story.  I  conjure  you  to  remain  calm  and 
avoid  a  scene,  and  take  pains  to  overcome  your  aver- 
sion. And,  above  all,  consider  our  feelings." 

She  then  related  to  him  the  misfortune  that  had  oc- 
curred. 

"As  to  the  dog,"  replied  Mr.  Hummel,  emphati- 
cally, "it  has  not  been  clearly  shown  that  it  was  our 
dog.  The  testimony  of  the  shepherd  does  not  satisfy 
me  ;  I  know  this  fellow  and  require  an  impartial  wit- 
ness. There  are  so  many  strange  dogs  running  about 
the  city  nowadays  that  the  safety  of  the  community  is 
endangered,  and  I  have  often  said  it  is  a  disgrace  to 
our  police.  But  if  it  should  be  our  dog,  I  cannot  see 
anything  particularly  wrong  about  it.  If  the  sheep 
stretched  out  its  leg  to  him  and  he  bit  it  a  little,  that 
is  its  own  affair  and  there  is  nothing  to  be  said  about  it. 
As  to  what  further  concerns  the  shepherd,  I  know  his 
master — so  that  is  my  affair.  Finally,  with  regard  to 
the  young  man  across  the  way  that  is  your  affair.  I 
do  not  wish  to  visit  on  him  the  evil  conduct  of  his 


SPITEHAHN. 


223 


parents,  but  I  must  say  once  for  all  that  I   will  have 
nothing  to  do  with  the  people  opposite. " 

"  I  must  call  your  attention  to  the  fact,  Mr.  Hum- 
mel," interposed  his  wife,  "that  the  Doctor  has  al- 
ready paid  money  to  the  shepherd." 

"  Money  for  my  child  ?  That  I  will  not  tolerate," 
exclaimed  Mr.  Hummel.  "  How  much  did  he  pay  ?  " 

"  But  father "  said  Laura  imploringly. 

"Can  you  expect,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Hummel,  re- 
proachfully, "that  your  daughter,  in  danger  of  death, 
should  count  the  groschens  that  her  rescuer  paid  for 
her  ?  " 

"That's  just  like  a  woman,"  grumbled  the  master 
of  the  house  ;  "you  have  no  head  for  business.  Can 
you  not  incidentally  ask  him  ?  The  shepherd  I  take 
upon  myself,  but  shall  not  trouble  myself  about  the 
Doctor.  Only  this  I  tell  you.  The  affair  must  be 
shortly  settled  and  our  relations  with  that  house  must 
remain  as  before.  All  I  ask  is  to  go  on  smoothly.  I 
intend  to  take  no  notice  of  these  Hahns.  " 

After  this  decision  he  left  the  ladies  to  their  feelings. 

"Your  father  is  right,"  said  Mrs.  Hummel,  "to 
leave  the  principal  matter  to  us.  With  his  harsh  dis- 
position thanks  would  come  very  ungraciously." 

"Mother,"  said  Laura,  entreatingly,  "you  have 
more  tact  than  I.  Can  you  not  go  over  there  ?  " 

"My  child,"  answered  Mrs.  Hummel,  clearing  her 
throat,  "that  is  not  easy.  This  unfortunate  occur- 
rence of  the  dogs  has  left  us  women  too  much  at  va- 
riance. No,  as  you  are  the  principal  person  now  con- 
cerned, you  must  go  over  there  yourself." 

"  I   cannot  visit    the  Doctor,"    exclaimed    Laura 
alarmed. 

"  That  is  not  necessary, "  said  Mrs.  Hummel,  sooth- 


224 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


ingly.  "There  is  one  advantage  our  neighborhood  pos- 
sesses— we  are  able  to  see  from  our  windows  when  the 
men  go  out.  You  may  then  rush  over  to  the  mother  and 
address  your  thanks  for  the  son  to  her.  You  are  very 
judicious,  my  child,  and  will  know  how  to  act." 

Thereupon  Laura  took  her  seat  at  the  window,  not 
well  pleased  to  sit  as  watcher  upon  her  neighbors ; 
this  lying  in  wait  was  repugnant  to  her.  At  last  the 
Doctor  appeared  on  the  threshold  ;  he  looked  the  same 
as  usual ;  there  was  nothing  chivalrous  to  be  seen  in 
him  ;  his  figure  was  slender  and  he  was  of  middle 
height — Laura  liked  tall  people.  He  had  an  intellect- 
ual countenance,  but  it  was  concealed  by  his  large 
spectacles,  which  gave  him  a  pedantic  appearance ; 
when  he  did  smile  his  face  became  quite  handsome, 
but  his  usual  serious  expression  was  not  becoming  to 
him.  Fritz  disappeared  round  the  corner  and  Laura 
put  on  her  hat  with  a  heavy  heart  and  went  into  the 
hostile  house,  which  she  had  never  yet  entered.  Dor- 
chen,  who  was  not  in  the  secret,  looked  astonished  at 
the  visit,  but  with  quick  intuition  connected  it  with 
the  return  of  the  Doctor  and  announced,  of  her  own 
accord,  that  neither  of  the  gentlemen  were  at  home, 
but  that  Mrs.  Hahn  was  in  the  garden. 

Mrs.  Hahn  was  sitting  in  the  Chinese  temple. 
Both  women  stood  opposite  each  other  with  a  feeling 
of  embarrassment ;  both  thought  at  the  same  time  of 
their  last  conversation  and  to  both  the  recollection 
was  painful.  But  with  Mrs.  Hahn  the  danger  to  which 
Laura  had  been  exposed  at  once  overcame  this  natural 
nervousness.  "Ah,  you  poor  young  lady  !  "  she  be- 
gan, but  while  overflowing  with  compassion,  with  del- 
icate tact  she  drew  away  from  the  Chinese  building, 
feeling  that  it  was  not  an  appropriate  place  for  this 


SPITEHAHN.  225 

visit  and  invited  her  to  sit  on  a  little  bench  in  front  of 
the  white  Muse.  This  was  the  pleasantest  spot  about 
the  house  ;  here  the  orange  tree  smiled  upon  its  donor, 
and  Laura  could  bring  herself  into  a  grateful  mood. 
She  told  her  neighbor  how  deeply  she  felt  indebted  to 
the  Doctor,  and  she  begged  her  to  say  this  to  her  son, 
because"  she  herself  in  the  confusion  had  not  properly 
fulfilled  this  duty.  She  then  entered  into  the  neces- 
sary business  about  the  bad  shepherd.  Good  Mrs. 
Hahn  was  pleased  with  her  thanks  and  in  a  motherly 
way  begged  Laura  to  take  off  her  hat  for  a  little  while, 
as  it  was  warm  in  the  garden.  But  Laura  did  not 
take  off  her  hat.  She  expressed  in  fitting  terms  her 
pleasure  in  the  garden,  said  how  beautifully  it  bloomed, 
and  heard  with  satisfaction  of  the  splendid  orange  tree 
which  had  been  sent  anonymously  to  Mr.  Hahn,  the 
fruit  of  which  was  sweet,  for  Mr.  Hahn  had  celebrated 
the  return  of  his  son  by  an  artistic  drink,  for  which 
he  had  taken  the  first  fruit  of  the  little  tree. 

It  was  altogether  a  diplomatic  visit,  not  extended 
unnecessarily ;  and  Laura  was  glad  when,  on  depart- 
ing, she  had  repeated  her  compliments  and  thanks  to 
the  Doctor. 

In  Laura's  secret  record,  also,  the  events  of  this 
day  were  very  shortly  disposed  of.  Even  an  obser- 
vation she  had  begun  on  the  happiness  of  the  lonely 
dwellers  in  the  wood  remained  unfinished.  How  was 
it,  Laura  ? — you,  who  write  down  everything  ;  who, 
when  an  insect  or  a  sparrow  hops  in  at  the  window, 
burst  forth  into  verse  !  Here  was  an  event  influencing 
your  whole  life — danger,  unconsciousness  in  the  arms 
of  a  stranger,  who,  in  spite  of  his  learned  aspect,  is  a 
handsome  youth  !  This  would  be  the  time  to  depict 
and  indulge  in  fancy  dreams.  Capricious  girl,  why 


226  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

does  this  adventure  lie  like  a  dead  stone  in  the  fan- 
tastic landscape  that  surrounds  thee  ?  Is  it  with  thee 
as  with  the  traveler,  who,  weary  of  the  Alpine  scenery, 
looks  below  him  and  wonders  that  this  marvelous  na- 
ture so  little  impresses  him,  till  gradually,  but  perhaps 
not  for  years,  the  scenes  pursue  him,  waking  or  dream- 
ing, and  draw  him  anew  to  the  mountains  ?  Or  has 
the  nearness  of  the  wicked  animal  who  occasioned  the 
outrage  impeded  the  flight  of  your  soaring  wings? 
There  he  lies  before  your  threshold,  red  and  ragged, 
licking  his  lips. 

CHAPTER  XII. 
THE    DEPARTURE    FROM    THE    ESTATE. 

AUTUMN  had  come.  The  trees  about  the  house  had 
assumed  their  colored  dress  of  decay.  White  webs 
hung  over  the  stubble,  and  the  dew  drops  lay  upon 
them  till  the  wind  tore  the  woven  fabrics  away  and 
bore  them  from  field  and  valley  into  the  blue  distance. 
A  happy  pair  went  hand  in  hand  about  the  place. 
This  year  the  fall  of  the  leaf  did  not  affect  the  Pro- 
fessor, for  a  new  spring  had  begun  in  his  life  ;  and  his 
happiness  was  written  in  his  countenance  in  characters 
which  might  be  read  by  the  most  unlearned. 

Use  was  betrothed.  Modestly  she  bore  the  invis- 
ible crown  which,  according  to  the  opinion  of  the 
household  and  neighborhood,  now  encircled  her  head. 
There  were  still  hours  in  which  she  could  scarcely  be- 
lieve in  her  happiness.  When  she  rose  early  from  her 
bed,  and  heard  the  trailing  of  the  plough,  or  when  she 
stood  in  the  dairy  amidst  the  clattering  of  the  milk 
pails,  her  future  appeared  like  a  dream.  But  in  the 
evening,  when  she  was  sitting  near  her  beloved  one, 


THE    DEPARTURE    FROM    THE    ESTATE.  227 

listening  to  his  words  and  conversing  on  subjects 
serious  and  trifling,  she  would  lay  her  hand  gently  on 
his  arm  in  order  to  assure  herself  that  he  belonged  to 
her,  and  that  she  was  thenceforth  to  enter  into  the 
life  in  which  his  spirit  moved. 

The  marriage  was  to  take  place  before  the  winter, 
and  before  the  lectures  began  at  the  University.  For 
the  Professor  had  petitioned  against  a  long  engage- 
ment and  the  father  had  yielded. 

"  I  would  gladly  have  kept  Use  with  me  over  the 
winter.  Clara  must  assume  a  portion  of  her  duties, 
and  the  guidance  of  her  sister  would  have  been  a  great 
help  to  her.  But  it  is  better  for  you  that  it  should  be 
otherwise.  You,  my  son,  have  sought  the  hand  of  my 
daughter  after  a  short  acquaintance,  and  the  sooner 
Use  accustoms  herself  to  the  life  of  the  city,  the  better 
it  will  be  for  you  both  ;  and  I  think  it  would  be  easier 
for  her  in  the  winter." 

It  was  a  time  of  happy  excitement,  and  the  neces- 
sity of  providing  for  the  new  household  brought  down 
the  feelings  of  the  betrothed  from  their  state  of  exal- 
tation to  earthly  things. 

The  Professor  made  a  journey  to  the  University. 
He  went  first  to  his  friend. 

"Wish  me  joy,"  he  exclaimed  ;  "have  confidence 
in  her  and  me." 

The  Doctor  embraced  him  and  never  left  his  side 
during  his  stay.  He  accompanied  him  in  all  his  shop- 
ping expeditions  and  assisted  him  in  the  arrangement 
of  the  rooms.  Gabriel,  who,  from  the  visit  of  the 
country  gentleman,  had  anticipated  coming  events, 
and  who  had  become  doubtful  of  his  own  indispensa- 
bility,  felt  proud  when  the  Professor  said  to  him  : 

"  Between  you  and  me  things  are  to  remain  as  they 


228  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

were.     Do  your  best  to  make  yourself  useful  to   my 
wife." 

Then  came  Mr.  Hummel.  In  the  name  of  the 
family  he  extended  his  congratulations,  and  of  his  own 
accord  offered  the  use  of  two  rooms  in  his  house  which 
he  himself  did  not  occupy.  But  Laura  was  more 
anxious  than  all  the  rest  about  the  new  inmate.  She 
burst  forth  in  verse  thus  : 

"  How  will  she  be,  of  sweet  or  lofty  mien  ? 
Proud,  dignified,  or  charmingly  serene  ? 
My  heart  beats  fast  and  thoughts  in  chaos  seem  1 
Will  fond  anticipations  prove  a  dream  ?" 

When  the  Professor  begged  of  her  and  her  mother 
to  receive  his  future  wife  with  friendliness  and  help 
her  in  her  arrangements,  and  when  he  added  to  Laura 
that  he  hoped  she  would  be  on  a  friendly  footing  with 
his  bride,  he  did  not  gues's  how  much  happiness  he 
had  given  that  young  heart,  which  felt  an  unquiet 
longing  to  attach  itself  devotedly  to  some  one.  The 
indefinite  descriptions  which  he  gave  concerning  the 
character  of  his  intended  made  a  very  vague  impression 
which  to  Laura  became  a  frame  in  which  she  daily 
depicted  new  faces. 

Meanwhile  the  women  were  occupied  in  the  old 
house  preparing  Use's  outfit.  The  approaching  mar- 
riage of  her  sister  had  transformed  Clara  into  a  young 
lady ;  she  helped  and  gave  good  advice,  and  in  every- 
thing showed  herself  clever  and  practical.  Use  spoke 
of  this  in  terms  of  praise  one  evening  to  her  father 
and  then  threw  her  arms  around  his  neck  and  burst 
into  tears.  The  father's  mouth  quivered  ;  he  did  not 
answer,  but  he  held  his  daughter  close  to  his  heart. 
It.  fortunately  happened  that  the  last  weeks  before 
their  separation  were  full  of  work  and  distraction. 
There  was  yet  much  to  be  done  in  the  household  and 

K —  - — A 


THE    DEPARTURE    FROM    THE    ESTATE.  229 

the  father  would  not  permit  the  betrothed  couple  to 
omit  a  single  visit  to  his  acquaintances  in  the  neigh- 
borhood. 

One  of  the  first  was  to  the  family  of  RollmauF. 
Use  in  a  special  letter  had  informed  Mrs.  Rollmaus  of 
her  betrothal ;  and  this  had  created  great  excitement. 
Mrs.  Rollmaus  burst  forth  into  a  stream  of  triumph; 
but  Mr.  Rollmaus  saddled  his  horse  and  rode  to  Biel- 
stein,  but  not  to  the  house.  He  inquired  for  the  Pro- 
prietor at  the  gate  of  the  court-yard  and  rode  to  meet 
him  in  the  field.  There  he  took  him  aside  and  began 
his  congratulations  with  this  short  question  : 

"What  is  he  worth?" 

The  question  was  answered  numerically,  and  he 
seemed  satisfied.  For  he  turned  his  horse  round, 
trotted  up  to  the  house  and  extended  his  congratula- 
tions to  Use  and  her  betrothed,  whom  he  now  looked 
upon  as  her  equal,  and  this  time  he  pressingly  re- 
peated his  invitation  to  call.  After  his  return,  he  said 
to  his  wife  : 

"  I 'could  have  wished  a  better  match  for  Use,  but 
the  man  is  not  so  bad  after  all." 

"Rollmaus,"  replied  the  wife,  "  I  hope  you  will 
behave  properly  on  this  occasion. " 

"What  do  you  mean  ?"  asked  the  Crown  Inspector. 

"You  must  propose  the  health  of  the  betrothed 
couple  at  dinner,  when  they  come." 

The  husband  muttered  a  suppressed  growl.  "But 
I'll  have  none  of  your  oratorical  trash  and  sentiment ;  I 
will  have  nothing  to  do  with  that." 

"  The  eloquence  must  be  in  the  introduction,"  said 
Mrs.  Rollmaus ;  "  and  if  you  will  not  do  it,  I  will  under- 
take it  myself.  You  may  merely  propose  the  health." 

The  house  of  Rollmaus  displayed  its   finest  table 


230  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

linen  and  dinner  service  for  the  visit,  and  Mrs.  Roll- 
maus  showed  not  only  a  good  heart  but  good  cooking. 
After  the  first  course  she  clinked  her  glass  and  began 
excitedly  : 

"  Dear  Use,  as  Mr.  Rollmaus  in  proposing  your 
health  will  express  himself  shortly  and  laconically,  I 
take  the  occasion  to  mention  beforehand  that  as  old 
friends  of  your  parents,  we  wish  you  joy  from  the  bot- 
tom of  our  hearts.  And  as  we  have  lived  together  as 
good  neighbors,  sympathizing  both  in  misfortune  and 
when  there  was  an  agreeable  addition  to  the  family, 
and  as  we  have  often  rendered  each  other  mutual  as- 
sistance in  household  matters,  it  is  very  sad  for  us  to 
think  that  you  are  going  to  leave  our  country.  Yet 
we  rejoice  that  you  are  going  to  a  city  where  intellect 
and  higher  aims  are  appreciated.  I  will  not  be  vo- 
luminous, therefore  I  beg  of  you  both  to  remember  us 
with  true  friendship." 

She  put  her  handkerchief  to  her  eyes  and  Mr. 
Rollmaus  expressed  the  family  feeling  generally,  in 
four  words  : 

"  Health  to  the  couple." 

At  departing  Mrs.  Rollmaus  wept  a  little  and 
begged  the  Proprietor  to  permit  them  to  be  at  the 
marriage,  though  no  other  guests  were  to  be  present. 

There  was  to  be  still  another  distraction.  The 
Sovereign  wished  to  stop  on  the  way  to  his  hunting 
castle  and  take  breakfast  in  the  old  house. 

"It  is  well,  Use,  that  you  are   with  us,"   said  her 
father. 

"  But  one  does  not  know  at  all  what  such  a  person 
is  accustomed  to,  "rejoined  Use,  between  pleasure  and 
anxiety. 

"His  own  cook  will  come  over  from  the  Forester's 


THE    DEPARTURE    FROM    THE    ESTATE.  231 

house  ;  he  will  help.      Only  see  to  it  that  he  finds  some- 
thing in  the  kitchen." 

It  was  a  day  of  busy  preparation,  and  the  children, 
the  housekeeper  and  the  workwomen  sat  among  heaps 
of  branches  and  autumn  flowers,  twining  wreaths  and 
garlands. 

"Spare  nothing,"  said  Use  to  the  old  gardener;  "he 
is  the  beloved  father  of  our  country.  We,  his  children, 
bring  him  our  flowers  as  a  tribute." 

Hans,  with  the  help  of  the  Professor,  arranged  im- 
mense emblems  and  monograms  of  dahlias. 

The  evening  before  the  hunt  the  purveyor  and  cook, 
with  their  attendants,  arrived.  The  purveyor  begged 
leave  to  set  the  table  in  the  garden.  "The  Sovereign 
will  be  accompanied  by  the  necessary  servants ;  the 
rest  of  the  waiting  may  be  done  by  the  waiting-maids 
of  the  house.  Country  customs  please  his  Highness." 

On  the  morning  of  the  chase  the  Proprietor  rode  in 
his  best  clothes  to  Rossau  to  receive  the  Sovereign, 
and  the  children  thronged  round  the  windows  of  the 
upper  story,  spying  along  the  highway  like  bandits. 
Shortly  before  midday  the  carriage  came  up  the  hill 
and  stopped  at  the  door  of  the  house.  The  Proprie- 
tor and  Forester,  who  were  riding  on  each  side  of  the 
royal  carriage,  dismounted.  The  Sovereign  descended 
with  his  suite,  greeting  them  as  he  crossed  the  thresh- 
old. He  was  of  advanced  age  and  middle  height ; 
had  a  small  delicate  face,  from  which  could  be  seen 
that  in  youth  he  had  been  cgnsidered  a  handsome 
man,  with  two  intelligent  eyes,  beneath  which  were 
many  small  wrinkles.  Use  entered  the  hall  and  the 
Proprietor  introduced  his  daughter  in  his  simple  way. 
The  Sovereign  greeted  Use  graciously  with  a  few  sen- 
tences and  favored  the  Professor,  who  was  presented 


232  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

to  him  as  bridegroom  of  the  daughter,  with  some 
attention ;  whereupon  the  Professor  was  invited  by 
the  master  of  the  hounds  to  join  the  party  at  break- 
fast. The  Sovereign  stepped  into  the  garden  directly, 
praised  the  house  and  the  landscape  and  recollected 
having  been  here  with  his  father  as  a  boy  of  fourteen. 

Breakfast  passed  off  admirably.  The  Sovereign 
asked  questions  of  the  Proprietor,  that  evinced  a  great 
interest  in  the  condition  of  the  country.  When  they 
arose  from  the  table,  he  approached  the  Professor, 
asked  various  particular  questions  about  the  Univer- 
sity, and  knew  the  names  of  several  of  his  colleagues. 
The  answers  and  general  demeanor  of  the  Scholar  in- 
duced him  to  prolong  the  conversation.  He  told  him 
that  he  himself  was  somewhat  of  a  collector.  He  had 
brought  ancient  coins  and  other  antiques  from  Italy 
and  any  increase  in  his  collection  gave  him  much 
pleasure.  And  he  was  pleased  to  find  that  the  Pro- 
fessor was  already  acquainted  with  several  of  the  more 
important  ones. 

When  the  Sovereign,  in  conclusion,  asked  the 
Professor,  whether  he  belonged  to  this  country,  Felix 
answered  that  accident  had  brought  him  there.  It 
suddenly  occurred  to  him  that  this  was  an  opportunity, 
which  might  never  recur,  of  making  known  to  the 
highest  power  in  the  country  the  fate  of  the  lost  manu- 
script, and  thereby,  perhaps,  gaining  an  order  for 
further  research  in  the  residence.  He  began  his  ac- 
count. The  Sovereign  listened  with  evident  excite- 
ment. While  cross-questioning  him  about  it,  he  drew 
him  further  from  the  company  and  seemed  so  entirely 
engrossed  in  the  affair  as  to  forget  the  hunting.  The 
master  of  the  hounds,  at  least,  looked  at  his  watch 
often  and  spoke  to  the  Proprietor  of  the  interest,  which 


THE    DEPARTURE    FROM    THE    ESTATE.  233 

the  Sovereign  seemed  to  take  in  his  son-in-law.  At 
last  his  Highness  closed  the  conversation  :— 

"I  thank  you  for  your  communication.  I  value 
the  confidence  which  you  have  shown  me.  If  I  can 
be  of  any  use  to  you  in  this  matter  apply  directly  to 
me  ;  and  should  you  happen  to  come  into  my  neigh- 
borhood, let  me  know.  It  would  give  me  pleasure  to 
see  you  again." 

When  the  Sovereign  passed  through  the  hall  to  the 
carriage  he  stopped  and  looked  round.  The  master 
of  the  hounds  gave  the  Proprietor  a  hint.  Use  was 
called  and  again  made  her  obeisance,  and  the  Sove- 
reign in  a  few  words  thanked  her  for  her  hospitable  re- 
ception. Before  the  carriage  had  disappeared  from 
the  farm-buildings  the  Sovereign  again  looked  back  to 
the  house,  and  this  civility  was  fully  appreciated. 

"  He  turned  quite  round,"  said  one  of  the  laborer's 
wives,  who  had  placed  herself  with  the  working  people 
near  the  evergreen  arch  by  the  barns. 

All  were  contented  and  rejoiced  in  the  gracious- 
ness  and  civility  which  had  been  given  and  received 
in  good  part.  Use  praised  the  Sovereign's  attendants, 
who  had  made  everything  so  easy  ;  and  the  judicious 
questions  of  the  ruler  had  pleased  the  Professor  much. 
When  the  Proprietor  returned  in  the  evening,  he  re- 
lated how  well  the  chase  had  gone  off,  and  that  the 
Sovereign  had  spoken  most  kindly  to  him  and  had 
wished  him  joy  of  his  son-in-law  before  everybody. 

The  last  day  that  the  maiden  was  to  pass  in  her 
father's  house  came.  She  went  with  her  sister  Clara 
down  to  the  village,  stood  by  the  window  of  the  poor 
Lazarus,  stopped  at  every  house  and  committed  the 
poor  and  sick  to  the  care  of  her  sister.  Then  she  sat 
a  long  time  with  the  Pastor  in  his  s.tudy.  The  old 


234  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

man  held  his  dear  child  by  the  hand  and  would  not 
let  her  go.  On  departing,  he  gave  her  the  old  Bible 
which  his  wife  had  used. 

"I  meant  to  take  it  with  me  to  my  last  abode,"  he 
said,  "but  it  will  be  better  preserved  in  your  hands." 

When  Use  returned  she  seated  herself  in  her  room 
and  the  maids  and  workwomen  of  the  house  entered 
one  after  another.  She  took  leave  of  each  of  them 
separately  and  spoke  to  them  once  more  of  what  each 
had  most  at  heart,  gave  comfort  and  good  advice,  and 
a  small  keepsake  from  her  little  store.  In  the  evening 
she  sat  between  her  father  and  lover.  The  tutor  had 
taught  the  children  some  verses  ;  Clara  brought  the 
bridal  wreath,  and  the  little  brother  appeared  as  a 
guardian  angel ;  but  when  he  began  his  speech  he 
burst  out  sobbing,  concealed  his  head  in  Use's  lap  and 
would  not  be  comforted. 

When  at  bed-time  they  had  all  left,  Use  for  the  last 
time  sat  in  her  chair  in  the  sitting  room.  When  her 
father  prepared  to  retire,  she  handed  him  a  candle. 
The  father  put  it  down  and  paced  up  and  down  with- 
out speaking.  At  last  he  began  : 

"  Your  room,  Use,  shall  remain  unchanged.  Should 
you  return  to  us  you  shall  find  it  as  you  left  it.  No 
one  can  replace  you  here.  No  one  can  be  what  you 
have  been  to  your  brothers,  sisters,  and  to  your  father. 
I  give  you  up  with  sorrow  to  enter  upon  a  life  which 
is  unknown  to  us  both.  Good  night,  my  beloved 
child.  Heaven's  blessing  upon  you.  God  guard  your 
noble  heart.  Be  brave,  Use,  for  life  is  full  of  trials." 

He  drew  her  to  him  and  she  wept  quietly  on  his 
breast. 

The  following  day  the  morning  sun  shone  through 
the  windows  of  the  old  wooden  church  upon  the  place 


THE    FIRST    GREETINGS    OF    THE    CITY.  235 

before  the  altar.  Again  Use's  head  was  surrounded 
by  a  heavenly  radiance  and  the  countenance  of  the 
man  into  whose  hand  the  old  pastor  laid  that  of  his 
favorite  beamed  with  happiness.  The  children  of  the 
house  and  the  workwomen  of  the  farm  strewed  flowers. 
Use,  with  her  wreath  and  veil,  stepped  over  the  last 
flowers  of  the  garden,  looking  heavenward.  From  the 
arms  of  her  father  and  sisters,  amid  the  loudly  ex- 
pressed blessings  of  Mrs.  Rollmaus  and  the  gently- 
murmured  prayer  of  the  old  Pastor,  her  husband 
helped  her  into  the  carriage.  Another  hurrah  from 
the  people,  one  more  glance  at  the  old  home,  and -Use 
pressed  the  hand  of  her  husband  and  clung  closely  to 
him. 

CHAPTER  XIIL 
THE  FIRST  GREETINGS  OF  THE  CITY. 

THE  leaves  were  falling  in  the  woods  around  the 
city.  Use  stood  at  the  window  thinking  of  her  home. 
The  wreaths  over  the  door  were  faded,  the  linen  and 
clothes  were  stowed  away  in  the  presses,  her  own  life 
glided  on  so  quietly,  while  all  around  her  was  noise 
and  bustle.  Her  husband  was  sitting  in  the  next  room 
over  his  work  ;  no  sound  but  the  rustling  of  the  leaves 
as  he  turned  them  penetrated  through  the  door  and  at 
times  the  clattering  of  plates  in  the  kitchen  which  was 
close  by.  Her  dwelling  was  very  pretty,  but  hedged 
in  on  all  sides  ;  at  one  side  the  narrow  street ;  behind 
was  the  neighboring  house,  with  many  windows  for 
curious  eyes  ;  toward  the  wood,  also,  the  horizon  was 
shut  in  by  grey  trunks  and  towering  branches.  From 
the  distance,  the  hum  and  cries  of  the  busy  town 
sounded  in  her  ear  from  morning  till  night ;  above  were 


236  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

to  be  heard  the  tones  of  a  pianoforte,  and  on  the  pave- 
ment the  unceasing  tread  of  the  passers-by,  wagons 
rolling  and  loud  voices  quarreling.  However  long  she 
looked  out  of  the  window,  there  were  always  new 
people  and  unknown  faces,  many  beautiful  equipages 
and,  on  the  other  hand,  many  poor  people.  Use 
thought  that  every  passer-by  who  wore  fashionable  at- 
tire must  be  a  person  of  distinction,  and  when  she  saw 
a  shabby  dress  she  thought  how  heavily  life  pressed 
upon  the  poor  here.  But  all  were  strangers  to  her  ; 
even  those  who  dwelt  near,  and  could  watch  her  pro- 
ceedings on  all  sides,  had  little  intercourse  with  her, 
and  if  she  inquired  concerning  individuals,  the  in- 
mates of  her  house  could  give  but  scanty  account  of 
them.  All  was  strange  and  cold  and  all  was  an  end- 
less tumult.  Use  felt  in  her  dwelling  as  if  she  were 
on  a  small  island  in  a  stormy  sea,  and  the  strange  life 
caused  her  much  anxiety. 

But,  however  gigantic  and  noisy  the  town  seemed 
to  Use,  it  was  at  bottom  a  friendly  monster.  Nay,  it 
fostered  perhaps,  rather  than  otherwise,  a  secret  in- 
clination to  poetic  feelings  and  to  private  courtesy.  It 
was  true  that  the  stern  burgomasters  had  given  up  the 
custom  of  welcoming  distinguished  strangers  with  wine 
and  fish,  but  still  they  sent  their  first  morning  greet- 
ing through  their  winged  proteges,  which  had  already 
delighted  Use's  father.  The  pigeons  flew  round  Use's 
window,  crowded  against  the  panes  and  picked  at  the 
wood  till  Use  strewed  some  food  for  them.  When 
Gabriel  removed  the  breakfast,  he  could  not  refrain 
from  taking  some  credit  for  this  to  himself  : 

"  I  have  for  some  weeks  past  scattered  food  before 
the  window,  thinking  it  would  be  agreeable  to  you  to 
see  the  pigeons." 


THE    FIRST    GREETINGS    OF    THE    CITY. 


237 


And  when  Use  looked  at  him  gratefully,  he  con- 
tinued ingenuously  : 

"For  I  also  came  from  the  country,  and  when  I 
first  went  to  the  barracks  I  shared  my  rations  with  a 
strange  poodle." 

But  the  town  took  care  that  other  birds  should  be- 
come intimate  with  the  lady  from  the  country.  On 
the  very  first  day  that  Use  went  put  alone  (it  was  an 
unpleasant  walk,  for  she  could  scarcely  resiststopping 
before  the  showy  shop-windows,  and  she  colored  when 
people  looked  boldly  in  her  face),  she  had  found  some 
poor  children  in  front  of  a  confectioner's,  who  looked 
longingly  through  the  windows  at  the  pastry ;  this 
longing  look  had  touched  her  and  she  entered  and  dis- 
tributed cakes  among  them.  Since  then,  it  happened 
that  every  noon  there  was  a  slight  ringing  at  Use's 
door,  and  little  children,  in  tattered  clothes,  produced 
empty  cans,  which  were  filled  and  carried  home,  to 
the  great  vexation  of  Mr.  Hummel,  who  could  not  ap- 
prove of  such  encouragement  to  rogues. 

When  Use,  on  the  evening  of  her  arrival,  was  taken 
by  her  husband  into  her  room,  she  found  a  beautiful 
cover  spread  over  her  table,  a  masterpiece  of  fancy- 
work,  and  on  it  a  card,  with  the  word  WELCOME. 
Gabriel  stated  that  Miss  Laura  had  brought  this  pres- 
ent. The  first  visit,  therefore,  on  the  following  morn- 
ing was  made  to  those  who  occupied  the  lower  story. 
When  Use  entered  the  sitting-room  of  the  Hummel 
family,  Laura  sprang  up  blushing,  and  stood  embar- 
rassed before  the  Professor's  wife  ;  her  whole  soul 
went  out  to  the  stranger,  but  there  was  something  in 
Use's  demeanor  that  inspired  her  with  awe.  Ah  !  the 
much  longed-for  one  was  undoubtedly  noble  and  dig- 
nified, even  more  so  than  Laura  had  expected  ;  and  she 


238  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

felt  herself  so  very  insignificant  and  awkward  that  she 
shyly  received  Use's  warm  thanks  and  drew  back  some 
steps,  leaving  it  to  her  mother  to  do  the  talking.  But 
she  did  not  weary  of  gazing  at  the  beautiful  woman 
and,  in  imagination,  adorning  her  figure  with  the  finest 
costumes  of  the  tragic  stage. 

Laura  declared  to  her  mother  that  she  would  like 
to  make  the  return  visit  alone,  and  on  the  first  suitable 
day  stole  upstairs  in  the  twilight  hour  with  beating 
heart,— yet  determined  to  have  a  good  talk.  But,  as 
accident  would  have  it,  immediately  after  her  arrival 
the  Doctor  entered,  much  to  the  disturbance  of  the 
general  peace,  and  consequently  there  was  nothing 
but  a  fragmentary  conversation,  and  hackneyed  com- 
monplaces which  were  very  unsatisfactory.  She  took 
leave,  angry  with  the  Doctor  and  dissatisfied  with  her- 
self because  she  had  found  nothing  better  to  say. 

Since  then  the  newlodger  upstairs  became  an  object 
of  incessant  and  secret  adoration  to  Laura.  After  din- 
ner she  placed  herself  at  the  window,  watching  for  the 
hour  when  Use  went  out  with  her  husband.  Then  she 
watched  her  from  behind  the  curtains  with  admiration. 
She  would  often  flit  across  the  hallway  and  about  the 
door  of  the  lodgers.  But  when  Use  appeared  in  the 
distance  she  would  hide,  or  if  she  met  her  she  would 
make  a  deep  courtesy  and,  on  the  spur  of  the  moment, 
could  only  think  of  ordinary  things  to  say.  She  was 
much  troubled  lest  her  pianoforte  playing  might  dis- 
turb her,  and  inquired  at  what  hours  it  would  be  least 
annoying  to  her ;  and,  one  day  when  that  nuisance  of 
a  red  dog  had  snarled  at  Use  and  had  maliciously  bit- 
ten at  her  dress,  she  was  so  angry  that  she  took  her 
parasol  and  drove  the  monster  downstairs. 

In  her  mother's  name — for  she  could  not  venture 


THE    FIRST    GREETINGS    OF    THE    CITY.  239 

upon  it  in  her  own — she  began  a  campaign  of  small 
attentions  against  the  tenants  of  the  upper  floor.  When 
venders  offered  their  tempting  wares  for  the  kitchen, 
Laura  would  frequently  disappoint  Mr.  Hummel's  epi- 
curean tastes ;  for  she  regularly  sent  the  young  geese 
and  fat  hens  upstairs,  till  at  last  the  servant,  Susan, 
became  so  bitter  at  this  preference  of  the  lodgers  that 
she  besought  the  aid  of  Mrs.  Hummel.  One  day 
Laura  learnt  from  Gabriel  that  the  Professor's  wife 
had  asked  for  a  certain  kind  of  apple  ;  Laura  hastened 
to  the  market  and  searched  till  she  found  a  little  bas- 
ket of  them  and  brought  them  home  ;  and  this  time 
she  compelled  even  Mr.  Hummel  himself  to  send  up 
the  basket  with  many  compliments.  Use  was  pleased 
with  these  household  courtesies,  but  did  not  guess 
the  secret  source. 

"  There  is  one  class  of  people  of  whom  I  am  much 
afraid,"  said  Use  to  her  husband ;  "and  that  is  the 
students.  When  I  was  scarcely  grown  up  and  on  a 
visit  to  an  aunt,  I  saw  a  whole  company  of  them  march 
through  the  gates  with  their  great  swords,  hats  with 
plumes,  and  velvet  coats.  They  were  so  wild  that  I 
did  not  venture  into  the  streets  all  that  day.  As  I  am 
now  to  associate  with  these  fierce  fellows,  I  shall  not 
exactly  be  afraid  of  them,  but  still  they  make  me  un- 
easy." 

"They  are  not  at  all  so  bad,"  said  the  Professor, 
consolingly  ;  "you  will  soon  get  accustomed  to  them." 

Notwithstanding  this,  Use  awaited  the  first  visit  of 
the  students  with  much  anxiety. 

It  happened  that  one  morning  the  bell  rang  just 
when  the  Professor  was  detained  at  the  University 
library,  and  Gabriel  and  the  maid  had  been  sent  out. 
Use  opened  the  door  herself.  A  young  man  whose 


240  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

colored  cap  and  black  map  under  his  arm  proclaimed 
him  a  student,  started  back  in  surprise.  He  looked 
quite  different  from  what  she  expected,  being  without 
ostrich  feather  or  sword,  and  his  face  was  pale  and 
thin  ;  yet  Use  felt  respect  for  the  learned  young  man, 
at  the  same  time  dreading  that  the  rude  nature  of  his 
class  might  suddenly  break  out.  She  was,  however, 
a  brave  woman  and  took  a  practical  view  of  the  visit. 
As  long  as  the  misfortune  has  come  I  must  be  cour- 
teous. "You  wish  to  speak  to  my  husband  ;  he  is 
not  at  home  at  present.  Will  you  have  the  kindness 
to  walk  in  ?  " 

The  student,  a  poor  philologist  who  was  a  candi- 
date for  a  scholarship,  was  thrown  into  great  alarm  at 
the  majestic  being  who  stood  before  him.  He  made 
many  bows  and  did  not  venture  to  refuse.  Use  took 
him  into  the  parlor,  motioned  him  to  an  arm-chair 
and  asked  whether  she  could  be  of  any  service  to  him. 
The  poor  fellow  became  still  more  embarrassed  and 
Use  was  also  infected  by  his  discomfiture.  She  made 
an  effort,  however,  to  begin  a  conversation,  and  in- 
quired whether  he  belonged  to  the  city.  This  was 
not  the  case.  From  what  country  did  he  come  ?  she 
also  was  a  stranger.  He  proved  to  be  from  her  own 
province  —  not  indeed  close  to  her  home,  but  within 
ten  miles  of  it  ;  he  had,  therefore,  from  his  earliest 
youth  looked  on  the  same  mountains  and  knew  the 
dialect  of  her  country  and  the  songs  of  the  birds.  Now 
she  moved  nearer  to  him  and  made  him  converse,  till 
at  last  they  chatted  together  like  old  friends.  At  length 
Use  said:  "  My  husband  will  probably  not  be  home 
for  some  time  ;  I  should  not  like  to  deprive  him  of 
the  pleasure  of  seeing  you.  May  we  have  the  pleas- 
ure of  your  company  at  dinner  next  Sunday  ? 


A 


THE    FIRST    GREETINGS    OF    THE    CITY. 


241 


Surprised  and  with  expressions  of  thanks  the  stu- 
dent arose  to  take  leave  and  was  accompanied  to  the 
door  by  Use.  But  he  had  been  so  confused  by  the 
adventure  that  he  had  forgotten  his  portfolio.  Again 
he  rang  the  bell  diffidently.  Again  he  stood  embar- 
rassed at  the  door  and  with  many  excuses  asked  for 
his  portfolio. 

Use  was  pleased  with  this  meeting  and  with  hav- 
ing so  well  overcome  her  first  difficulty.  She  called 
out  joyfully  to  her  husband  when  he  came  to  the  door, 
"  Felix,  the  first  student  has  been  here." 

"  Indeed,"  answered  the  husband,  in  no  wise  dis- 
turbed by  the  announcement ;  "what  is  his  name?" 

"  I  do  not  know  his  name,  but  he  wore  a  red  cap 
and  said  he  was  not  a  freshman.  I  was  not  at  all 
afraid  and  I  asked  him  to  dinner  for  Sunday." 

"  Well,"  replied  the  Professor,  "  if  you  do  that  to 
everyone  our  house  will  soon  be  full.'7 

"Was  it  not  right  ?  "  asked  Use,  troubled.  "  I  saw 
that  he  was  not  one  of  the  principal  ones,  but  I  wished, 
on  your  account,  to  do  too  much  rather  than  too 
little." 

"Never  mind,"  said  the  Professor;  "we  will  not 
forget  that  he  was  the  first  one  to  look  into  your  dear 
face. " 

Sunday  came,  and  with  it,  at  the  hour  of  noon,  the 
student,  who  had  on  this  occasion  paid  exceptional 
attention  to  his  toilet.  But  Use,  observing  the  de- 
meanor of  her  husband  toward  the  student,  maintained 
a  quiet,  motherly  dignity.  In  accordance  with  this 
she  gave  him  a  second  helping  of  the  roast  and  pro- 
vided him  with  quantities  of  vegetables.  This  kindly 
treatment  and  several  glasses  of  wine,  the  last  of  which 
was  poured  out  by  Use,  strengthened  the  heart  of  the 


242  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

student  and  raised  him  above  the  petty  things  of 
earthly  life.  After  dinner  the  Professor  conversed 
with  the  Doctor  on  some  learned  subjects.  But  Use 
kindly  kept  up  a  conversation  with  the  young  gentle- 
man and  put  him  so  much  at  his  ease  that  he  began 
to  speak  of  his  family  affairs.  Then  the  student  be- 
came confiding  and  pathetic  and  began  some  very  sor- 
rowful disclosures.  In  the  first  place,  naturally,  that 
he  had  no  money  ;  then  he  ventured  to  add  the  pain- 
ful confession  of  a  tender  attachment  for  the  daughter 
of  a  lawyer  who  lived  in  the  same  house  with  him,  and 
whom  he  had  secretly  worshiped  for  a  whole  year  and 
expressed  it  in  poetry.  But  at  .last  the  father  inter- 
posed ;  he,  with  a  tyranny  peculiar  to  magistrates,  for- 
bade the  acceptance  of  the  poems  by  his  daughter  and 
contrived  to  remove  the  student  from  the  house. 
Since  that  time  the  heart  of  the  student  had  been  an 
abyss  of  despair  ;  no  longer  did  any  poem — they  were 
sonnets — penetrate  to  the  secluded  beloved  one.  Nay, 
he  even  had  grounds  to  believe  that  she  too  despised 
him  ;  for  she  attended  balls,  and  only  the  previous 
evening  he  had  seen  her  with  flowers  in  her  hair 
alighting  from  her  father's  carriage  at  a  brilliantly 
lighted  house.  Sorrowfully  he  had  stood  at  the  door 
of  the  house  among  the  spectators  ;  but  she  had  glided 
past  him  smiling  and  beaming.  Now  he  wandered 
about  in  despair  and  alone,  weary  of  his  life  and  full 
of  dismal  thoughts,  concerning  which  he  gave  gloomy 
intimations.  Finally,  he  asked  Use's  permission  to 
send  her  these  poems  which  expressed  the  condition 
of  his  heart.  Use,  of  course,  consented,  with  expres- 
sions of  sincere  compassion. 

The  student  took  his  leave  and  the  next  morning 
Use  received  a  package  with  a  very  respectful  letter, 


THE    FIRST    GREETINGS    OF    THE    CITY.  243 

by  post,  in  which  he  excused  himself  for  not  sending 
her  all  the  poetical  pieces  which  would  place  his  mis- 
fortune in  the  right  light,  as  he  had  not  copies  of  them 
ready.  Enclosed  with  them  was  a  sonnet  to  Use  her- 
self, very  tender  and  full  of  reverence,  in  which  it  was 
clearly  the  secret  intention  of  the  student  to  make  Use 
the  mistress  of  his  dreams  in  the  place  of  his  unfaith- 
ful love. 

Use,  somewhat  embarrassed,  laid  this  enclosure  on 
the  writing-table  of  her  husband. 

"  If  I  have  done  wrong,  Felix,  tell  me." 

The  Professor  laughed. 

"  I  will  send  him  back  his  poem  myself ;  that  will 
cool  his  ardor.  You  know  now  that  it  is  dangerous 
to  receive  the  confidence  of  a  student.  The  poems, 
by  the  way,  are  poorer  than  need  be." 

"Thus  1  have  had  a  lesson,"  said  Use,  "which  I 
have  brought  upon  myself ;  for  the  future  I  will  be 
more  cautious." 

But  she  could  not  so  easily  banish  the  recollection 
of  the  student. 

Every  afternoon,  when  the  weather  was  favorable, 
Use  went  at  the  same  hour  with  her  husband  to  the 
adjacent  wood.  The  happy  couple  sought  out  lonely 
by-paths,  where  the  branches  were  more  thickly  inter- 
twined and  the  green  carpet  beneath  contrasted  gaily 
with  the  yellow  leaves.  Then  Use  thought  of  the 
trees  on  her  father's  estate ;  and  the  conversation  with 
her  husband  always  reverted  to  her  father,  brothers, 
and  sisters,  and  to  the  latest  news  she  had  had  from 
home.  In  the  meadow  which  extended  from  the  last 
buildings  of  the  town  to  the  wood  there  stood  a  bench 
under  a  large  bush  ;  from  there  could  be  seen  the 
hostile  houses  in  the  foreground  and  behind  them  the 


244 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


gables  and  towers  of  the  city.  When  Use  came  upon 
the  place  the  first  time,  she  was  pleased  at  the  sight 
of  her  own  windows  and  the  surrounding  gloomy 
towers,  and  it  led  her  to  think  of  the  seat  in  the  cave, 
from  which  she  had  so  often  looked  on  her  father's 
house  ;  she  sat  down  on  the  bench,  drew  out  the  let- 
ters which  she  had  just  received  from  her  brothers 
and  sisters,  and  read  to  her  husband  the  simple  sen- 
tences in  which  they  reported  the  latest  events  on  the 
farm.  From  that  time  forth  this  became  her  favorite 
resting-place,  as  she  and  her  husband  bent  their  steps 
homeward. 

The  day  after  the  reception  of  the  student's  pack- 
age, on  arriving  at  the  bench,  she  saw  a  small  nosegay 
lying  on  it ;  she  picked  it  up  with  curiosity  ;  a  deli- 
cately folded  note  of  rose-colored  paper  was  appended 
to  it,  with  this  inscription:  "A  greeting  from  B." 
After  this  as  many  stars  as  there  were  letters  in  the 
name  of  her  father's  country-place.  Surprised,  she 
handed  the  note  to  the  Professor.  He  opened  it  and 
read  these  unpretentious  lines  :— 

The  little  dwarfes   in  their  stone-built  bower, 

Have  written  the  rhyme  on  this  card. 
They  send  from  thy  father's  home  a  flower, 

With  their  heart-felt,  innermost  regard. 

"That  is  meant  for  you,"  he  said,  in  astonishment. 

"  How  delightful  !"  exclaimed  Use. 

"  The  '  dwarf  must  certainly  be  a  joke  of  the  Doc- 
tor," decided  the  Professor  ;  "truly,  he  has  well  dis- 
guised his  handwriting." 

Use,  delighted,  pinned  on  the  nosegay. 

"When  the  Doctor  comes  this  evening  he  shall  not 
find  out  that  we  have  discovered  him." 

The   Professor  dilated  upon  the  droll   idea  of  his 


THE    FIRST    GREETINGS    OF    THE    CITY.  245 

friend  and  Use,  who  before  had  looked  upon  the  Doc- 
tor with  secret  distrust,  heartily  agreed. 

But  when,  in  the  evening,  the  Doctor  feigned  the 
greatest  nonchalance,  he  was  jestingly  scolded  for  his 
art  of  dissimulation  and  loaded  with  thanks.  When, 
however,  he  firmly  declared  that  the  nosegay  and 
verse  did  not  come  from  him,  fruitless  discussion  arose 
as  to  the  author,  and  the  Professor  began  to  look  very 
serious. 

A  few  days  later  the  offering  in  the  wood  was  re- 
peated ;  another  nosegay  lay  on  the  bench  with  the 
same  address  and  a  verse.  Again  did  Use  endeavor 
gently  to  maintain,  that  there  had  been  collusion  on 
the  part  of  the  Doctor,  but  the  Professor  rejected  that 
and  put  the  rose-colored  note  in  his  pocket.  Use  took 
the  nosegay  with  her,  but  this  time  did*not  "place  it  in 
her  girdle.  When  the  Doctor  came  the  adventure 
was  again  discussed. 

"It  can  be  no  one  but  the  little  student,"  said  Use, 
much  distressed. 

"That  I  fear,  also,"  said  the  Professor,  and  re- 
lated to  the  Doctor  Use's  annoyance  at  the  confiden- 
tial package  from  the  devotee  of  the  muses.  "  Harm- 
less as  the  thing  appears  in  itself,  it  still  has  a  serious 
aspect.  These  addresses  imply  close  watching,  which 
is  anything  but  agreeable,  and  such  activity  and  assi- 
duity may  lead  the  adorer  to  still  greater  daring.  He 
must  be  checked.  I  will  endeavor  to-morrow  to  con- 
•  vince  him  of  his  error." 

"And  if  he  should  deny  the  act,"  interposed  the 
Doctor.  "You  should  at  least  make  this  impossible. 
As  the  nosegay  has  escaped  the  observation  of  others 
passing  by,  it  has  probably  been  laid  there  the  last 
moment  before  your  appearance,  which  would  not  be 


246  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

difficult  to  do,   as  you  always  pass  at  the  same  hour. 
We  must  endeavor  to  surprise  the  daring  man." 

"I  will  go  alone  to-morrow,"  said  the  Professor. 

"You  ought  not  to  watch  a  student  in  the  wood," 
said  the  Doctor,  decidedly.  "Besides,  if  your  wife 
remains  at  home  the  nosegay  will  probably  not  lie  on 
the  bench.  Leave  the  affair  to  me.  Go  out  as  usual 
to-morrow  and  the  following  days  and  I  shall  watch 
the  place  from  some  other  point. " 

This  being  settled,  the  Professor  took  both  the 
small  nosegays  from  the  glass  and  threw  them  out  of 
the  window. 

On  the  following  day,  a  quarter  of  an  hour  before  his 
friends  started,  the  Doctor  went  to  the  wood,  disguised 
in  a  grey  coat  and  dark  hat,  in  order  to  fall  upon  the  • 
presumptuous  versifier  from  his  hiding-place;  he  under- 
took to  chastise  the  offender  so  that  the  Professor  would 
be  spared  any  personal  interference.  He  found  a  good 
place  just  opposite  the  bench,  where  the  dense  beech 
foliage  would  conceal  the  hunter  from  his  game.  There 
he  placed  himself  in  a  good  position,  drew  a  large  opera- 
glass  from  his  pocket  and  fixed  his  eyes  attentively 
on  the  bench  in  question.  The  bench  was  still  empty; 
the  few  pedestrians  passed  it  by  with  indifference  ; 
the  time  seemed  long  ;  the  Doctor  looked  for  half  an 
hour  through  the  glasses,  until  his  eyes  began  to  ache, 
but  he  persevered.  His  place  was  well  chosen  ;  the 
offender  could  not  escape.  Suddenly,  just  as  his  eyes 
accidentally  glanced  toward  Mr.  Hummel's  house,  he 
saw  the  garden  gate  open  ;  something  dark  passed  out 
between  the  trees  and  came  toward  the  bench  out  of 
the  thicket,  looked  cautiously  round,  passed  by  the 
bench  and  disappeared  again  among  the  trees  and 
through  the  hostile  garden  gate.  An  expression  of  in- 


[7 


THE    FIRST    GREETINGS    OF    THE    CITY.  247 

finite  astonishment  was  depicted  on  the  countenance 
of  the  Doctor  ;  he  closed  his  opera  glass  and  laughed 
quietly  to  himself  ;  then  adjusted  the  glasses  again, 
and  peered  after  the  vanished  figure.  He  shook  his 
head  and  fell  into  deep  thought.  He  listened  and 
heard  the  quiet  steps  of  two  promenaders.  The  Pro- 
fessor and  Use  came  out  of  the  wood.  They  stopped 
a  few  steps  from  the  bench  and  looked  at  the  fatal 
nosegay  which  lay  there  so  innocently.  The  Doctor 
burst  out  from  the  copse,  laughing,  took  up  the  nose- 
gay, and,  offering  it  to  Use,  said  : 

"  It  is  not  the  student." 

"Who  then?"  asked  the  Professor,  uneasily. 

"That  I  cannot  tell,"  replied  the  Doctor  ;  "but 
the  affair  is  harmless  —  the  nosegay  is  from  a  lady." 

"Seriously?"  asked  the  Professor. 

"You  may  depend  upon  it,"  replied  Fritz,  con- 
vincingly. "  It  is  from  some  one  whom  we  both  know 
and  your  wife  need  not  hesitate  to  accept  the  greetings. 
It  is  given  with  the  best  intentions." 

"Have  the  townspeople  so  many  verses  and  se- 
crets ?"  asked  Use,  curiously,  taking  the  flowers  with 
a  light  heart. 

Again  there  was  guessing  :  they  could  not  find  any 
one  on  whom  they  could  fix  it. 

"  I  am  glad  that  the  mystery  is  thus  solved,"  said 
the  Professor;  "but  tell  your  poetess  that  such  missives 
might  easily  fall  into  bad  hands." 

"  I  have  no  influence  over  her,  "  replied  the  Doctor  ; 
"but  whatever  may  have  put  it  into  her  head  to  do 
this,  it  will  not  always  remain  a  secret." 

At  last  came  the  long-wished-for  hour  in  which 
Laura  was  to  have  a  private  meeting  with  the  dis- 
tinguished stranger,  as  Use  up  to  this  day  was  des- 


248  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

ignated  in  the  private  memoirs.  Her  mother  had  gone 
out  when  Use  entered  the  sitting-room  to  ask  a  house- 
hold question.  Laura  gave  the  information,  gained 
courage  and  at  last  ventured  to  request  Use  to  go  with 
her  into  the  garden.  There  they  sat  together  under  the 
last  rays  of  an  October  sun  and  interchanged  opinions 
concerning  the  boat,  the  Chinese  temple  and  the 
passers-by.  Finally,  Laura  respectfully  took  Use's  hand 
and  drew  her  into  a  corner  of  the  garden  to  show  her  a 
great  rarity — the  abandoned  nest  of  a  hedge-sparrow. 
The  birds  had  long  flown  away  and  the  remains  of  the 
nest  still  hung  on  the  half -bare  branches. 

'/Here  they  were,"  cried  Laura,  impressively; 
"  charming  little  creatures  ;  there  were  five  speckled 
eggs  there  and  they  reared  their  little  ones  success- 
fully. I  was  in  mortal  terror  all  the  time  on  account 
of  the  cats  that  prowl  about  here." 

"You  have  never  lived  in  the  country,"  said  Use. 
People  here  in  the  city  are  delighted  if  they  can  only 
keep  one  poor  little  sparrow  in  their  garden.  At  home 
they  chirruped,  sang  and  flew  about  in  all  the  trees  ] 
and  unless  there  was  something  unusual  about  them, 
one  took  no  particular  notice  of  them.  Here  each 
little  creature  is  valued  and  cared  for,  even  the  spar- 
rows. The  first  morning  I  was  here  I  was  shocked  at 
the  sight  of  these  poor  creatures ;  they  are  not  to  be 
compared  to  their  brothers  in  the  country,  their 
feathers  are  bristly  and  uneven,  and  their  whole  bodies 
are  black  and  sooty,  like  charcoal-burners.  I  would 
gladly  have  taken  a  sponge  to  wash  the  whole  lot." 

"  It  would  be  of  no  use  ;  they  would  become  black 
again,"  said  Laura,  despondingly.  "It  is  caused  by 
the  soot  in  the  gutters." 

"Does  one  become  so  dusty  and  is  one  so  roughly 


THE    FIRST    GREETINGS    OF    THE    CITY. 


249 


handled  in  the  city  ?  That  is  sad.  It  is  certainly 
much  more  beautiful  in  the  country."  As  Use  softly 
acknowledged  this,  her  eyes  moistened  involuntarily 
with  the  thought  of  the  distant  woody  hills.  "I  am 
only  a  stranger  here,"  she  added  more  cheerfully. 
"  The  city  would  be  very  pleasant  if  there  were  not  so 
many  people  :  they  annoy  me  with  their  staring,  when- 
ever I  go  out  alone." 

"I  will  accompany  you  if  you  like,"  said  Laura, 
.delighted  ;  I  shall  always  be  ready." 

This  was  a  kind  offer  and  was  thankfully  accepted. 
Laura,  in  her  great  joy,' ventured  to  ask  Use  to  go  with 
her  into  her  private  room.  They  ascended  to  the 
upper  story.  There  the  little  sofa,  the  ivy  screen,  the 
shepherd  and  shepherdess,  were  duly  admired,  and 
finally  the  new  piano. 

"Will  you  play  something  for  me?  "asked  Use. 
"I  cannot  play  at  all.  We  had  an  old  piano  but  I 
learnt  only  a  few  tunes  from  my  dear  mother  for  the 
children  to  dance  to." 

Laura  took  a  piece  of  music,  .the  first  leaf  of  which 
was  beautifully  ornamented  with  gilded  elves  and 
lilies,  and  played  the  "Elfin  Waltz,"  secretly  trem- 
bling, but  with  great  execution  ;  and  she  explained, 
laughingly,  with  a  shake  of  her  black  locks,  the  pas- 
sages where  the  spirits  came  fluttering  in  and  myste- 
riously chattered  together.  Use  was  highly  delighted. 
'  How  quickly  your  little  fingers  fly,"  she  said,  re- 
garding Laura's  delicate  hand  with  admiration.  "  See 
how  large  my  hand  is  in  comparison  and  how  hard  the 
skin — that  comes  from  doing  housework." 

Laura  looked  entreatingly  at  her.  "  If  I  might 
only  hear  you  sing." 


250 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


"I  can  sing  nothing  but  hymns  and  some  old 
country  songs." 

"Oh,  do  sing  them,"  begged  Laura.  "I  will  en- 
deavor to  accompany  you." 

Use  began  an  old  melody  and  Laura  tried  a  modest 
accompaniment  and  listened  with  transport  to  the  rich 
sound  of  Use's  voice ;  she  felt  her  heart  tremble  under 
the  swelling  tones  and  ventured  to  join  in  the  last 
verse. 

After  this  she  searched  for  a  song  which  was  known 
to  both,  and,  when  they  succeeded  tolerably  in  sing- 
ing together,  Laura  clapped  her  hands  enthusiastically, 
and  they  determined  to  practice  some  easy  songs  to 
surprise  the  Professor. 

In  the  course  of  conversation  Use  confessed  that 
she  had  seldom  heard  a  concert,  and  occasionally 
when  visiting  in  the  neighborhood,  had  seen  a  play, 
but  only  one  opera. 

"The  piece  was  called  the  Freischiitz,"  said  Use  ; 
"  the  heroine  was  the  forester's  daughter,  and  she  had 
a  friend  just  as  merry,  with  beautiful  locks  and  frank 
eyes  like  yours  ;  and  the  man  whom  she  loved  lost  his 
faith  in  the  gracious  protection  of  heaven,  and  in  order 
to  obtain  the  girl  he  denied  God  and  surrendered  him- 
self to  the  Evil  One.  That  was  fearful ;  her  heart 
became  heavy  and  a  foreboding  came  over  her ;  but 
she  did  not  lose  her  strength  of  mind,  nor  her  trust  in 
help  from  above  ;  and  her  faith  saved  her  lover,  over 
whom  the  Evil  One  had  already  stretched  out  his 
hand." 

Then  she  accurately  described  the  whole  dramatic 
course  of  the  action. 

"It  was  enchanting,"  she  said.  "  I  was  very  young, 
and  when  I  came  back  to  our  hotel  I  could  not  com- 


THE    FIRST    GREETINGS    OF    THE    CITY.  251 

pose    myself   and    my   father   was    obliged    to    scold 
me." 

Laura  listened,  sitting  on  a  footstool  at  Use's  feet; 
she  held  her  hand  fast  and  heard  her  account  as  a 
child  listens  to  a  tale  she  already  knows. 

"How  well  you  describe  it ;  'tis  as  if  one  was  read- 
ing a  poem." 

"Ah,  no,  "exclaimed  Use,  shaking  her  head  ;  "this 
compliment  is  just  what  I  do  not  in  the  least  deserve. 
I  have  never  in  my  life  made  a  verse  and  I  am  so  pro- 
saic that  I  do  not  know  how  my  unpolished  nature  will 
adapt  itself  to  the  town,  for  here  they  write  verses  ; 
they  hum  about  in  the  air  like  flies  in  summer." 

'What  do  you  mean?"  asked  Laura,  hanging  her 
head. 

•'Only  think,  even  I,  a  stranger,  have  received 
verses !  " 

"  That  is  quite  natural,"  said  Laura,  folding  her 
handkerchief  to  conceal  her  confusion. 

"  I  have  found  little  nosegays  on  the  bench  in  the 
park,  with  dear  little  poems,  and  the  name  of  my 
home  given  by  a  letter  and  stars.  See,  first  a  large 
B,  and  then " 

Laura,  in  her  delight  at  this  account,  looked  up, 
from  her  handkerchief.  Her  cheeks  were  suffused 
with  color.  There  was  a  roguish  smile  in  her  eyes. 

Use  looked  at  the  beaming  countenance  and,  as 
she  spoke,  guessed  that  she  was  the  giver. 

Laura  bent  down  to  kiss  her  hand,  but  Use  raised 
the  curly  head,  threatening  her  with  her  finger  and 
kissing  her. 

"You  are  not  angry  with  me,"  said  Laura,  "for 
being  so  bold?" 

"  It  was  very  sweet  and  kind  of  you,  but  you  must 


252  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

know  that  it  caused  us  a  great  deal  of  uneasiness. 
The  Doctor  discovered  you,  but  he  did  not  tell  us 
your  name." 

''The  Doctor?"  exclaimed  Laura,  starting  up. 
"Must  that  man  always  interfere  where  I  am  con- 
cerned !" 

"He  kept  your  secret  faithfully.  Now  I  may  tell 
my  husband  all  about  it,  may  I  not  ?  but,  between  our- 
selves, he  was  very  much  displeased  for  a  time." 

This  was  a  triumph  for  Laura.  Again  she  seated 
herself  at  Use's  feet  and  archly  begged  her  to  relate 
what  the  Professor  had  said. 

"That  would  not  be  right,"  answered  Use,  gravely  ; 
"  that  is  his  secret. " 

Thus  an  hour  passed  in  pleasant  talk  till  the  clock 
struck,  and  Use  rose  hastily.  "  My  husband  will  won- 
der where  I  have  disappeared  to,"  said  she.  "You 
are  a  dear  girl.  If  you  like  we  will  become  good 
friends." 

Ah  !  that  pleased  Laura  very  much.  She  accom- 
panied her  visitor  to  the  staircase,  and  on  the  step  it 
occurred  to  her  that  she  had  forgotten  the  principal 
thing  she  wanted  to  say;  her  room  was  directly  above 
that  of  the  Professor's  wife,  and  when  Use  opened  the 
window  she  could  communicate  quickly  with  her  by 
signals.  Just  as  Use  was  about  to  close  her  door, 
Laura  ran  down  once  mor6  in  order  to  express  her 
joy  that  Use  had  granted  her  this  hour. 

Laura  returned  to  her  room,  paced  up  and  down 
with  rapid  steps,  and  snapped  her  fingers  like  one 
who  has  won  the  great  prize  in  a  lottery.  She  con- 
fided to  her  journal  her  account  of  the  consecrated 
hour,  and  of  every  word  that  Use  had  spoken,  and 
concluded  with  verses  : 


A    DAY    OF    VISITS.  253 

"  I  found  thee,  pure  one  !     Now  my  dream  will  live.      . 

And  tho'  'twixt  joy  and  pain  thy  soul  may  pine, 
I  touch  thy  garment's  hem  and  homage  give, 
And  lovingly  thee  in  my  heart  enshrine." 

Then  she  seated  herself  at  the  piano  and  played 
with  impassioned  expression  the  melody  which  Use 
had  sung  to  her.  And  Use  below  heard  this  heartfelt 
outburst  of  thanks  for  her  visit. 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
A  DAY  OF  VISITS. 

A  CARRIAGE  drove  up  to  the  door.  Use  entered  her 
husband's  study,  attired  for  her  first  visit.  "Look  at 
me,"  she  said  ;  "do  I  look  all  right?  " 

"Very  well,"  cried  the  Professor,  joyfully,  scan- 
ning his  wife.  But  it  was  well  that  everything  was  as 
it  should  be  without  his  help,  for  in  matter  of  the 
toilet  the  critical  eye  of  the  Professor  was  of  doubtful 
value. 

"  Now  I  begin  a  new  game,"  continued  Use,  "  such 
as  the  children  used  to  play  at  home.  I  am  to  knock 
at  your  friends'  doors  and  call  out,  Halloa,  halloa  !  and 
when  the  ladies  ask,  Who  is  there  ?  I  shall  answer,  as 
in  the  game  : 

"  I  am  a  poor,  poor  beggar-maid, 

And  what  I  want  is  this  : 
For  me  I  want  a  piece  of  bread  ; 
For  my  husband  I  want  a  kiss." 

"Well,  so  far  as  the  kisses  are  concerned  that  I 
am  to  dispense  to  the  wives  of  my  colleagues,"  replied 
the  Professor,  putting  on  his  gloves,  "  I  should,  on 
the  whole,  be  obliged  to  you  if  you  would  take  that 
business  upon  yourself." 

"Ah,  you  men  are  very  strict, "  said  Use;  "my 
little  Franz  also  always  refuses  to  play  the  game,  be- 


254  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

cause  he  would  not  kiss  the  stupid  girls.  I  only  hope 
that  I'll  not  disgrace  you." 

They  drove  through  the  streets.  On  the  way  the 
Professor  gave  his  wife  an  account  of  the  persons  and 
the  particular  branch  of  learning  of  each  of  his  col- 
leagues to  whom  he  was  taking  her. 

"Let  us  visit  pleasant  people  first,"  he  said. 
"Yonder  lives  Professor  Raschke,  our  professor  of 
philosophy,  and  a  dear  friend  of  mine.  I  hope  his 
wife  will  please  you." 

"Is  he  very  famous,"  asked  Use,  laying  her  hand 
on  her  beating  heart. 

The  carriage  stopped  before  a  low  dwelling  at  the 
further  end  of  the  suburb.  Gabriel  hastened  into  the 
house  to  announce  the  visitors  ;  finding  the  kitchen 
empty,  he  knocked  at  the  parlor-door,  and,  finally, 
being  experienced  in  the  customs  of  the  family, 
opened  the  entrance  into  the  court  yard.  "  Professor 
Raschke  and  his  wife  are  in  the  garden." 

The  visitors  passed  through  a  narrow  yard  into  a 
kitchen-garden,  which  the  owner  of  the  house  had 
given  his  lodger  permission  to  walk  in,  to  get  the  bene- 
fit of  the  air.  The  couple  were  walking  along  the  path 
under  the  noon-sun  of  an  autumn  day.  The  lady  car- 
ried a  little  child  on  her  arm ;  the  husband  held  a 
book  in  his  hand,  from  which  he  was  reading  to  his 
companion.  In  order,  however,  to  do  as  much  family 
duty  as  possible,  the  Professor  had  fastened  the  pole 
of  a  baby  carriage  to  his  belt  and  thus  drew  a  second 
child  after  him.  The  backs  of  the  couple  were  turned 
to  the  guests  and  they  moved  slowly  forward,  listening 
and  reading  aloud. 

"An  encounter  in    the   narrow  path   is  not  desi- 


A    DAY    OF    VISITS.  255 

rable,"  said  Felix;  "we  must  wait  until  they  turn 
round  the  square  and  face  us." 

It  was  some  time  before  the  procession  overcame 
the  hindrances  of  the  journey,  for  the  Professor  in  the 
eagerness  of  reading,  sometimes  stopped  to  explain-,  as 
might  be  seen  from  the  motion  of  his  hands.  Use 
examined  the  appearance  of  the  strange  pedestrians 
with  curiosity.  The  wife  was  pale  and  delicate  ;  one 
could  perceive  that  she  had  recently  left  a  sick  bed. 
The  man  had  a  nobly  formed,  intellectual  face,  about 
which  hung  long  dark  hair  with  a  sprinkling  of  gray 
upon  it.  They  had  come  close  to  the  guests,  when 
the  wife  turned  her  eyes  from  her  husband  and  per- 
ceived the  visitors. 

"What  a  pleasure  !  "  cried  the  Philosopher,  drop- 
ping his  book  into  the  great  pocket  of  his  coat.  "Good 
morning,  my  dear  colleague.  Ha  !  that  is  our  dear 
Professor's  wife.  Unhitch  me  from  the  carriage, 
Aurelia ;  the  family  bonds  hamper  me." 

The  unhitching  took  some  time,  as  the  hands  of 
the  mistress  of  the  house  were  not  free,  and  Professor 
Raschke  by  no  means  kept  still,  but  struggled  forward, 
and  had  already  seized  with  both  hands  those  of  his 
colleague  and  -wife. 

"Come  into  the  house,  my  dear  guests,"  he  ex- 
claimed, striding  forward  with  long  steps,  while  Felix 
introduced  his  wife  to  the  lady.  Professor  Raschke 
forgot  his  baby  carriage,  which  Use  lifted  over  the 
threshold  and  rolled  into  the  hall.  There  she  took  up 
the  neglected  child  from  its  seat  and  both  ladies  en- 
tered the  room  with  a  diminutive  chip  of  philosophy 
in  their  arms,  exchanging  their  first  friendly  greetings, 
while  the  little  one  in  Use's  arms  lustily  swung  his 
rattle,  and  the  youngest  child  on  the  arm  of  its  mother 


g 


256  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

began  to  scream.  Meanwhile  colleague  Raschke  went 
about  clearing  the  room,  removed  books  and  papers 
from  the  sofa,  shook  faded  sofa-cushions  into  form, 
which  emitted  clouds  of  dust,  and  cordially  invited  his 
guests  to  be  seated. 

At  length  the  confusion  subsided.  Use  played  with 
the  child  on  her  lap,  while  Mrs.  Raschke  after  a  dis- 
appearance for  a  moment  came  back  without  the 
screaming  infant.  She  sat  shyly  by  Use,  but  asked 
her  friendly  questions  in  a  gentle  voice.  The  lively 
Philosopher,  however,  was  always  interrupting  the 
conversation  of  the  ladies  ;  he  stroked  the  hand  of  the 
Professor,  while  he  nodded  in  the  direction  of  his  wife. 
"This  is  quite  right;  I  rejoice  that  you  accustom 
yourself  to  our  mode  of  life  while  still  so  young,  for 
our  wives  have  not  an  easy  time  of  it  —  their  outer  life 
is  limited  and  they  have  many  demands  made  upon 
them  at  home.  We  are  often  wearisome  companions, 
difficult  to  deal  with,  peevish,  morose,  and  perverse." 
He  shook  his  head  disapprovingly  over  the  character 
of  the  world  of  learning,  but  his  face  smiled  with  gen- 
uine pleasure. 

The  end  of  the  visit  was  hastened  by  the  baby,  who 
began  to  cry  piteously  in  the  next  room. 

"Are  you  going  already?"  said  the  Philosopher  to 
Use  ;  "  this  cannot  be  counted  as  a  visit.  You  please 
me  much,  and  you  have  true  eyes  ;  and  I  see  that  you 
have  a  kind  disposition,  and  that  is  everything.  All 
we  want  is,  in  the  face  a  good  mirror  through  which 
the  images  of  life  are  reflected  fully  and  purely,  and 
in  the  heart  an  enduring  flame  which  will  communi- 
cate its  warmth  to  others.  Whoever  has  that  will  do 
well,  even  if  it  is  her  fate  to  be  the  wife  as  you  are,  of 


A    DAY    OF    VISITS. 


257 


a  sedentary  student,  and  as  is  this  poor  mother  of  five 
screaming  young  ones." 

Again  he  strode  rapidly  about,  fetched  an  old  hat 
from  the  corner  and  handed  it  to  the  wife  of  his  col- 
league. Use  laughed. 

"Oh,  I  see.  It  is  a  gentlerrian's  hat,"  said  Pro- 
fessor Raschke  ;  "perhaps  it  belongs  to  your  husband." 

"  I  also  am  provided  with  one,"  said  the  Professor. 

"Then  it  must  be  my  own  after  all,  "said  Raschke  ; 
and  jamming  the  hat  on  his  head,  he  accompanied  his 
guests  to  the  carriage. 

For  some  time  Use  sat  in  the  carriage  dumb  with 
astonishment.  "Now  I  have  regained  my  courage, 
Felix  ;  the  professors  are  still  less  alarming  than  the 
students." 

•"All  will  not  receive  you  so  warmly,"  answered 
the  Professor.  "  He  who  comes  next  is  my  colleague 
Struvelius  ;  he  teaches  Greek  and  Latin,  as  I  do  ;  he 
is  not  one  of  my  intimate  acquaintances,  but  is  a 
thorough  scholar." 

This  time  it  was  a  house  in  the  city;  the  appart- 
ments  were  a  little  more  ancient  than  in  Use's  new 
dwelling.  This  professor's  wife  wore  a  black  silk  dress, 
and  was  sitting  before  a  writing-table  covered  with 
books  and  papers  ;  a  delicate  lady,  of  middle  age,  with 
a  small  but  clever  face  and  an  extraordinary  coiffure  ; 
for  her  short  hair  was  combed  behind  her  ears  in  one 
large  roll  of  curl,  which  gave  her  a  certain  resem- 
blance to  Sappho  or  Corinne,  so  far  as  a  comparison 
is  allowable  with  ladies  of  antiquity,  the  growth  of 
whose  hair  is  by  no  means  satisfactorily  ascertained. 

Mrs.  Struvelius  arose  slowly  and  greeted  the  vis- 
itors with  haughty  demeanor  ;  she  expressed  her  pleas- 
ure to  Use  and  then  turned  to  the  Professor.  "I  have 


258  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

to-day  commenced  reading  the  work  of  colleague 
Raschke  and  I  admire  the  deep  thought  of  the  man." 

"His  writings  are  delightful, "  replied  the  Professor, 
"  because  in  all  of  them  we  discover  a  thorough  and 
pure-minded  man." 

I  agree  with  your  premise  and  consequent  conclu- 
sion in  this  particular  instance,  but  with  regard  to  the 
general  proposition  you  assert,  allow  me  to  say  that 
many  works  that  form  an  epoch  in  literature  would 
have  no  great  excellence,  if  it  were  necessary  to  be  a 
perfect  man  in  order  to  write  a  good  book." 

Use  looked  timidly  at  the  learned  lady  who  had 
ventured  to  oppose  her  husband. 

"Yet  we  will  come  to  an  agreement,"  continued 
the  Professor's  wife,  fluently,  as  if  she  were  reading 
from  a  book.  "It  is  not  requisite  for  every  valuable 
work  that  its  author  should  be  a  man  of  character,  but 
he  who  truly  has  this  noble  qualification,  would  be  un- 
likely to  produce  anything  which  would  have  an  un- 
favorable influence  on  his  branch  of  learning ;  un- 
doubtedly the  weaknesses  of  a  learned  work  originate 
more  frequently  than  one  supposes  in  the  author's 
weakness  of  character." 

The  Professor  nodded  assentingly. 

"For,"  she  continued,  "the  position  which  a 
scholar  assumes  with  respect  to  the  great  questions  of 
the  day,  affecting  his  branch  of  learning — nay,  with 
respect  even  to  the  advantages  and  deficiencies  of  his 
method — may  generally  be  explained  from  his  char- 
acter. You  have  always  lived  in  the  country,"  she 
said,  turning  to  Use.  "It  would  be  instructive  to  me 
to  learn  what  impression  you  have  received  of  the 
mutual  relations  of  people  in  the  town." 

"  I  have  met  but  few  as  yet,"  rejoined  Use,  timidly. 


A    DAY    OF    VISITS. 


259 


"Of  course,"  said  Mrs.  Struvelius.  "But  I  mean 
that  you  will  observe  with  surprise  that  near  neighbor- 
hood does  not  always  imply  intimate  intercourse. 
But  Struvelius  must  be  told  you  are  here." 

She  rose,  opened  the  door  of  the  next  room,  and 
standing  bolt  upright  by  the  door,  called  out  : 

"  Professor  and  Mrs.  Werner  !  " 

A  slight  murmur  and  the  hasty  rustling  of  leaves 
of  a  book  were  heard  in  the  adjoining  room.  The 
wife  closed  the  door  and  continued  : 

"For  after  all  we  live  among  many  and  associate 
with  few.  In  the  city  we  choose  from  among  many 
individuals  with  a  certain  arbitrariness.  One  might 
have  more  acquaintance  than  one  has,  but  even  this 
feeling  gives  you  confidence,  and  such  confidence  is 
more  easily  acquired  in  town  than  in  the  country." 

The  side  door  opened.  Professor  Struvelius  entered 
with  an  absent-minded  manner.  He  had  a  sharp  nose, 
thin  lips  and  wore  an  unusual  style  of  head  dress.  For 
his  hair  stood  so  peculiarly  after  its  own  fashion,  that 
one  was  justified  in  assuming  that  the  head  gear  was 
hereditary  and  had  suggested  the  name  of  the  family. 
He  bowed  slightly,  pushed  a  chair  forward  and  seated 
himself  in  it  silently  —  probably  his  thoughts  were  still  . 
occupied  with  his  Greek  historian.  Use  suffered  from 
the  conviction  that  the  visit  was  an  inopportune  inter- 
ruption and  that  it  was  a  great  condescension  on  the 
part  of  his  wife  to  speak  to  her  at  all. 

"  Are  you  musical  ?  "said  Mrs.  Struvelius,  inquisi- 
tively. 

"  I  can  hardly  say  so,"  answered  Use. 

"  I  am  glad  of  it,"  said  the  hostess,  moving  oppo- 
site to  her  and  examining  her  with  her  sharp  eyes. 
"  From  my  estimate  of  you,  I  should  think  you  could 


260  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

not  be  musical.  The  art  of  music  makes  us  weak  and 
leads  too  frequently  to  an  imperfect  state  of  exist- 
ence." 

Felix  endeavored,  with  little  success,  to  make  the 
Professor  take  part  in  the  conversation ;  and  the  vis- 
itors soon  rose.  On  taking  leave,  Mrs.  Struvelius 
stretched  the  lower  part  of  her  arm  in  a  rectangular 
line  toward  Use  and  said,  with  a  solemn  pressure  of 
the  hand  : 

"  Pray  feel  yourself  at  home  with  us."  And  the 
words  of  her  husband,  bidding  them  adieu,  were  cut 
short  by  the  closing  of  the  door. 

".What  do  you  say  now  ?"  said  the  Professor,  as 
they  drove  away. 

"Ah,  Felix,  I  feel  very  insignificant;  my  courage 
has  left  me,  I  would  rather  return  home." 

"Be  composed,"  said  the  husband,  consolingly; 
"you  are  going  about  to-day  as  if  you  were  at  a  fair, 
looking  over  the  contents  of  the  tables.  What  does 
not  please  you,  you  need  not  buy.  The  next  visit  is 
to  our  historian,  a  worthy  man,  who  is  one  of  the  good 
genii  of  our  University.  His  daughter  also  is  an 
amiable  young  lady." 

A  servant  opened  the  door  and  conducted  them 
into  the  reception-room.  There  were  some  good  land- 
scapes on  the  wall ;  a  pianoforte,  a  pretty  flower  stand, 
with  rare  plants,  well  arranged  and  taken  care  of. 
The  daughter  entered  hastily ;  she  had  a  delicate  face 
with  beautiful  dark  eyes.  A  stately  old  gentleman 
with  a  distinguished  air  followed  her.  He  looked 
something  like  a  high  official,  only  his  lively  way  of 
speaking  showed  him  to  be  a  man  of  learning.  Use 
was  warmly  and  heartily  welcomed.  The  old  gentle- 
man seated  himself  near  her  and  began  an  easy  con- 


A    DAY    OF    VISITS.  26 1 

versation,  and  Use  soon  felt  herself  as  comfortable  as 
with  an  intimate  acquaintance.  She  was  also  reminded 
of  her  home,  for  he  asked  : 

"  Are  any  of  the  remains  of  the  old  monastery  at 
Rossau  still  preserved  ?  " 

Felix  looked  up  with  curiosity,  and  Use  answered  : 
"  Only  the  walls  ;  the  interior  is  rebuilt." 
"  It  was  one  of  the  oldest  ecclesiastical  foundations 
of  your  region,  and  has  stood  many  centuries,  and  un- 
doubtedly exercised  influence  over  a  wide  district.     It 
is  remarkable  that  the  records  of  the  monastery  are 
almost  all  wanting,  and  all  other  accounts  or  notices, 
so  far  as  I  know,  are  very  scanty.      One  may  suppose 
that  much  still  lies  in  concealment  there." 

Use  observed  how  the  countenance  of  her  husband 
lighted  up  ;  but  he  replied,  quietly  : 

"  In  the  place  itself,  my  inquiries  were  in  vain." 
"That  is  possible,"  agreed  the  Historian.      "  Per- 
haps the  documents  have  been  taken  to  the   seat  of 
government,  and  lie  there  unused." 

Thus  passed  one  visit  after  another.  Next  came 
the  Rector,  a  Professor  of  Medicine,  an  agreeable  man 
of  the  world,  who  kept  up  an  elegant  establishment. 
His  wife  was  a  plump,  active  lady,  with  restless,  in- 
quiring eyes.  Then  came  the  Secretary  of  the  theo- 
logical Consistory,  a  tall,  thin  gentleman  with  a  sweet 
smile  ;  his  wife,  too,  was  over-proportioned  in  every- 
thing,— in  nose,  mouth,  and  hospitality.  The  last  was 
the  Mineralogist,  a  clever  young  man  with  a  very  pretty 
wife  ;  they  had  only  been  married  a  few  months.  While 
the  young  women,  seated  on  the  sofa,  were  rapidly 
becoming  acquainted,  Use  was  for  the  second  time 
surprised  by  a  question  from  the  Professor  : 


262  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"Your  home  is  not  without  interest  for  my  depart- 
ment. Is  there  not  a  cave  in  the  neighborhood?" 

Use  colored  and  looked  again  at  her  husband. 

"It  is  on  my  father's  estate." 

"Indeed  !  I  am  just  now  at  work  on  a  new  dis- 
covery that  has  been  made  on  your  estate,"  exclaimed 
the  Mineralogist. 

He  produced  a  stone  of  remarkably  radiated  struc- 
ture. 

"This  is  a  very  rare  mineral  that  has  been  discov- 
ered in  the  neighborhood  of  the  cave  ;  it  was  sent  me 
by  an  apothecary  of  the  province." 

He  told  her  the  name  of  the  mineral,  and  spoke  of 
the  stone  of  which  the  cave  was  formed,  and  the  rock 
on  which  her  father's  house  stood,  just  as  if  he  had 
been  there  himself,  and  made  Use  describe  the  lines 
of  the  hills  and  the  quarries  of  the  neighborhood.  He 
listened  attentively  to  her  clear  answers,  and  thought 
the  geological  structure  of  the  estate  very  remarkable. 

Use  was  delighted  and  exclaimed  : 

"We  imagined  that  no  one  in  the  world  cared 
about  us  ;  but  I  see  the  learned  gentlemen  know  more 
about  our  country  than  we  ourselves  do." 

"We  know,  at  least,  how  to  find  something  more 
precious  than  fragments  of  rock  there,"  replied  the 
Professor  courteously. 

After  their  return  home,  Use  entered  her  husband's 
room,  where  he  had  already  sat  down  to  his  work. 

"Let  me  remain  with  you  to-day,  Felix  ?  My  head 
is  confused  with  all  the  persons  to  whom  you  have 
taken  me  ;  I  have  seen  so  much  within  one  day,  and 
have  had  so  much  friendliness  shown  me  by  clever 
and  distinguished  men.  The  learned  lady  frightened 
me  most  ;  and,  Felix,  it  is  perhaps  wrong  in  me  to 


A 


A    DAY    OF    VISITS. 


263 


say  so,  for  she  is  much  more  clever  and  refined,  but 
I  found  a  resemblance  in  her  to  a  good  old  acquaint- 
ance of  ours." 

"Mrs.  Rollmaus,"  assented  the  Professor.  "But 
this  lady  is  in  reality  very  clever,"  he  added. 

"Heaven  grant,"  said  Use,  "that  she  may  be 
equally  true-hearted  !  But  I  feel  terrified  at  her  learn- 
ing. I  like  the  other  ladies,  and  the  husbands  still 
better.  There  is  something  noble  about  almost  all  of 
them,  they  converse  wonderfully  well,  they  are  un- 
constrained and  seem  to  have  real  inward  happiness 
and  gladness  of  heart ;  and  naturally  so,  for  they  hover 
over  the  earth  like  your  gods  of  old,  and,  therefore, 
they  may  well  be  cheerful.  Ah  !  and  there  was  the 
patched  smoking  jacket  which  dear  Professor  Raschke 
wore — moth  and  rust  will  never  eat  that !  When  I 
think  that  all  these  clever  people  have  treated  me  with 
kindness  and  regard,  solely  on  my  husband's  account, 
I  do  not  know  how  I  can  thank  you  sufficiently.  And 
now  that  I  have  been  received  into  this  new  society, 
I  can  only  ask  that  my  entrance  into  it  may  be  blessed. " 

"  The  husband  stretched  out  his  hand  and  drew 
her  toward  him  ;  she  clasped  his  head  with  her  hands 
and  bent  over  him. 

"What  are  you  working  at  now?"  she  asked, 
softly. 

"Nothing  very  important ;  merely  a  treatise  that 
I  have  to  prepare  every  year  for  the  University." 

He  then  told  her  something  of  the  contents  of  the 
work. 

"And  when  that  is  finished,  what  then?  " 

"Then  I  must  set  about  other  tasks." 
'And  thus  it   goes   on   always   from   morning  to 
evening,  every  year,  till  the  eyes  fail  and  the  strength 


264 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


breaks,"  said  Use  piteously.  "I  have  a  great  favor 
to  ask  of  you  to-day,  Felix.  Will  you  show  me  the 
books  which  you  have  written — all  of  them  ?  " 

"  All  that  I  still  possess,"  said  the  Professor,  and 
he  collected  books  and  treatises  here  and  there  from 
every  corner. 

Use  opened  one  work  after  another,  and  she  found 
that  she  already  knew  the  Latin  titles  of  some  of  them 
by  heart.  The  Professor  became  interested  in  this 
occupation,  and  was  always  finding  more  little  treatises 
which  he  had  forgotten.  Use  laid  them  all  before  her 
in  a  heap  and  began  solemnly  : 

"A  great  crisis  has  now  come  for  me.  I  wish  to 
learn  from  you  the  contents  of  each  writing  as  far  as 
you  are  able  to  explain  it  to  your  wife.  When  I  was 
already  secretly  in  love  with  you,  the  children  found 
your  name  in  the  encyclopedia  ;  we  endeavored  to  read 
the  strange  titles  of  your  books,  and  Mrs.  Rollmaus 
made  conjectures  in  her  way  as  to  the  contents.  Then 
I  felt  sorry  that  I  could  understand  nothing  of  what 
you  had  done  for  mankind.  Since  that,  1  have  always 
hoped  the  day  would  come  when  I  could  ask  you  what 
it  was  that  you  knew  better  than  others,  and  by  reason 
of  which  I  should  be  proud  of  belonging  to  you.  The 
hour  is  now  come  ;  for  to-day  you  have  introduced  me 
to  your  friends  as  your  wife,  and  I  want  to  be  your 
wife  there  too  where  your  treasure  and  your  heart  are 
— as  far  as  I  can." 

"Dear  Use,"  exclaimed  the  Professor,  carried 
away  by  her  frank  dignity. 

"  But  do  not  forget,"  continued  Use,  with  empha- 
sis, "that  I  understand  very  little,  and  pray  have  pa- 
tience with  me.  1  have  arranged  how  I  wish  to  have  it 
done.  Write  down  for  me,  in  a  note-book  that  I  have 


^ 


A    DAY    OF    VISITS.  265 

bought  for  the  purpose,  the  titles,  as  they  are  in  the 
foreign  language  and  also  in  German,,  first  of  your  ear- 
liest works  and  then  the  last.  Together  with  this, 
note  down  what  value  you  place  on  the  work,  and 
what  is  its  importance  for  mankind.  Underneath  every 
work  I  will  set  down  what  I  understand  from  your 
explanation,  that  I  may  well  remember  them." 

She  produced  a  note-book  ;  the  Professor  searched 
again  for  some  more  treatises,  arranged  them  accord- 
ing to  date,  and  wrote  each  title  on  one  page  of  the 
book.  Then  he  gave  his  wife  some  explanation  of  the 
contents  of  each  work,  and  helped  her  to  write  her  re- 
marks in  the  note-book. 

"Those  in  German  I  will  endeavor  to  read  my- 
self," said  Use. 

Thus  they  both  sat  bending  eagerly  over  the  books, 
and  the  Professor's  heart  beat  with  pleasure  at  the 
earnestness  with  which  his  wife  endeavored  to  under- 
stand his  occupations.  For  it  is  the  lot  of  the  scholar 
that  few  look  with  sympathy  upon  his  trouble,  his  strug- 
gles, and  the  worth  of  his  work.  The  world  regards  him 
as  a  common  laborer.  What  he  has  formed,  with  endur- 
ing strength, henceforth  becomes  a  building-stone  in  the 
immeasurable  house  of  learning  on  which  all  the  races 
of  the  earth  have  been  laboring  for  thousands  of  years. 
Hundreds  of  others  make  a  foundation  of  it  to  advance 
their  own  work  ;  thousands  of  new  blocks  are  piled 
upon  if,  and  there  are  few  to  inquire  who  has  chiseled 
the  separate  columns,  and  still  more  seldom  does  a 
stranger  grasp  the  hand  of  the  workman.  The  light 
works  of  the  poet  are  long  greeted  by  those  in  whom 
he  has  raised  a  cheerful  smile  or  an  exalted  feeling. 
But  the  scholar  seldom  makes  a  valuable  confidant  or 
friend  of  his  reader  by  his  individual  works.  He  does 


266  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

not  paint  enchanting  pictures  for  the  imagination  ;  he 
does  not  flatter  the  yearning  soul ;  he  demands  the 
utmost  seriousness  and  the  closest  attention  from  his 
readers,  the  benefit  of  which  redounds  to  himself  in 
every  criticism  that  is  made.  Even  where  he  inspires 
respect  he  remains  a  stranger. 

And  yet  he  is  not  a  mere  stonemason  who  cuts  form- 
less blocks  according  to  prescribed  measures.  He 
works  independently  andcontributeshisown  life-blood, 
sometimes  suffering  great  depression,  sometimes  full 
of  joy  and  happiness.  The  fruits  that  he  proffers 
his  age  have  grown  from  the  deepest  roots  of  his  life. 
Therefore  the  honest  mind  that  enters  heartily  into  the 
labor  of  the  learned,  and  not  only  inquires  for  the  ulti- 
mate result  of  learning,  but  takes  an  interest  in  the 
inward  struggle  of  the  workman,  is  to  him  a  valuable 
treasure,  a  rare  happiness. — Felix  now  looked  with 
emotion  at  his  wife,  who  was  striving  to  occupy  this 
position,  and  tender  emotions  swelled  the  heart  of  the 
strong-minded  man  while  he  explained  to  her  the  sub- 
jects of  his  labors, — while  he  told  her  about  the  Roman 
tribus  and  the  duties  of  the  senate. 

When  all  was  noted  down,  Use  laid  her  hands  on 
the  books  and  exclaimed  : 

"Here  I  have  all.  What  a  small  space  they  oc- 
cupy, yet  they  employed  many  laborious  .days  and 
nights,  and  the  best  portion  of  your  noble  life.  This 
has  often  given  you  flushed  cheeks  as  you  have  to-day. 
For  this  you  have  studied  till  your  poor  brain  has 
been  on  fire,  and  for  this  you  have  always  sat  in  a 
confined  room.  I  have  hitherto  looked  upon  books 
with  indifference  ;  now  for  the  first  time  I  perceive 
what  a  book  is,  a  quiet  endless  labor." 

"That  is  not  to  be  said  of  all,"   replied  the  Pro- 


F 


A    DAY    OF    VISITS.  267 

fessor  ;  "but  the  superior  ones  are  more  even  than  a 
labor." 

He  gazed  lovingly  on  the  walls  along  which  the 
high  book-shelves  reached  up  to  the  very  ceiling,  so 
that  the  room  looked  as  if  papered  with  the  backs  of 
books. 

"The  great  number  of  them  quite  frightens  me," 
said  Use,  helping  him  to  make  room  for  his  own  books 
in  a  dark  corner,  which  was  now  cleared  for  them  as 
their  resting-place.  "They  look  so  calm  and  com- 
posed, and  yet  many  of  them  may  have  been  written 
with  such  impassioned  feeling,  and  have  excited  their 
readers,  too." 

"Yes,"  said  her  husband,  "they  are  the  great  treas- 
ure-wards of  the  human  race.  They  preserve  all  that 
is  most  valuable  of  what  has  ever  been  thought  or  dis- 
covered, from  one  century  to  another ;  and  they  pro- 
claim what  existed  once,  and  once  only,  upon  the 
earth.  Here  is  what  was  produced  full  a  thousand 
years  before  our  era,  and  close  beside  them  those  that 
have  come  into  the  world  but  a  few  weeks  ago." 

"Yet,  from  the  coats  that  they  wear,  they  look 
almost  like  each  other,"  said  Use.  "  I  should  have  diffi- 
culty in  distinguishing  them." 

The  Professor  explained  their  arrangement  and  led 
her  from  one  book-shelf  to  another,  pointing  out  those 
works  which  were  his  special  favorites. 

"And  you  use  them  all?" 

"Yes,  and  many  more  at  times.  These  that  you 
see  here  are  only  an  infinitely  small  portion  of  the 
books  that  have  been  printed  ;  for  since  the  invention 
of  books,  almost  all  that  we  know  and  call  learning  is 
to  be  found  in  them.  But  that  is  not  all,"  he  con- 


268 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


tinued  ;  "few  know  that  a  book  is  something  more 
than  simply  a  product  of  the  creative  mind,  which  its 
author  sends  forth  as  a  cabinet-maker  does  a  chair  that 
has  been  ordered.  There  remains,  indeed,  attached 
to  every  human  work  something  of  the  soul  of  the  man 
who  has  produced  it.  But  a  book  contains  between 
its  covers  the  actual  soul  of  the  man.  The  real  value 
of  a  man  to  others — the  best  portion  of  his  life — re- 
mains in  this  form  for  the  generations  that  follow, 
and  perhaps  for  the  farthermost  future.  Moreover, 
not  only  those  who  write  a  good  book,  but  those  whose 
lives  and  actions  are  portrayed  in  it,  continue  in  fact 
living  among  us.  We  converse  with  them  as  with 
friends  and  opponents ;  we  admire  or  contend  with, 
love  or  hate  them,  not  less  than  if  they  dwelt  bodily 
among  us.  The  human  soul  that  is  enclosed  in  such 
a  cover  becomes  imperishable  on  earth,  and,  therefore, 
we  may  say  that  the  soul-life  of  the  individual  becomes 
enduring  in  books,  and  only  the  soul  which  is  encased 
in  a  book  has  certain  duration  on  earth. " 

"But  error  persists  also,"  said  Use,  "and  so  do 
liars  and  impure  spirits  when  they  are  put  in  books." 

"They  undoubtedly  do,  but  are  refuted  by  better 
souls.  Very  different,  certainly,  is  the  value  and  im- 
port of  these  imperishable  records.  Few  maintain 
their  beauty  and  importance  for  all  periods  ;  many  are 
only  valuable  at  a  later  time,  because  we  ascertain 
from  them  the  character  and  life  of  men  in  their  days, 
while  others  are  quite  useless  and  ephemeral.  But 
all  books  that  have  ever  been  written  from  the  earliest 
to  the  latest,  have  a  mysterious  connection.  For, 
observe,  no  one  who  has  written  a  book  has  of  him- 
self become  what  he  is ;  every  one  stands  on  the 
shoulders  of  his  predecessor  ;  all  that  was  produced 


A    DAY    OF    VISITS. 


269 


before  his  time  has  helped  to  form  his  life  and  soul. 
Again,  what  he  has  produced,  has  in  some  sort  formed 
other  men,  and  thus  his  soul  has  passed  to  later  times. 
In  this  way  the  contents  of  books  form  one  great  soul- 
empire  on  earth,  and  all  who  now  write,  live  and  nour- 
ish themselves  on  the  souls  of  the  past  generations. 
From  this  point  of  view  the  soul  of  mankind  is  an  im- 
measurable unity,  which  comprises  every  one  who  ever 
thus  lived  and  worked,  as  well  as  those  who  breathe 
and  produce  new  works  at  present.  The  soul,  which 
past  generations  felt  as  their  own,  has  been  and  is 
daily  transmigrating  into  others.  What  is  written  to- 
day may  to-morrow  become  the  possession  of  thou- 
sands of  strangers.  Those  who  have  long  ago  ceased 
to  exist  in  the  body  continue  to  live  in  new  forms  here 
on  earth,  and  daily  revive  in  thousands  of  others." 

"Stop,"  cried  Use,  entreatingly,  "I  am  bewil- 
dered." 

"I  tell  you  this  now,  because  I  too  feel  myself  a 
modest  worker  in  this  earthly  soul-empire.  This  feel- 
ing gives  me  a  pleasure  in  life  which  is  indestructible, 
and  it  also  gives  me  both  freedom  and  modesty.  For 
whoever  works  with  this  feeling,  whether  his  powers 
be  great  or  small,  does  so  not  for  his  own  honor,  but 
for  all.  He  does  not  live  for  himself  but  for  all,  as  all 
who  have  before  existed  continue  to  live  for  him." 

He  spoke  earnestly,  sitting  surrounded  by  his  books, 
with  the  setting  sun  casting  its  friendly  rays  on  his 
head  and  on  the  home  of  his  spirit — the  book-shelves. 
And  Use,  leaning  on  his  shoulder,  said  humbly  :  "I 
am  yours.  Teach  me,  form  me,  and  make  me  under- 
stand what  you  understand. " 


270  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


CHAPTER  XV. 
AMONG  THE  LEARNED. 

ILSE  popped  her  head  into  her  husband's  study  : 
"  May  I  interrupt  you  ?  " 

"Come  in." 

"Felix,  what  is  the  difference  between  Fauns  and 
Satyrs  ?  Here  I  read  that  Satyrs  have  goats'  feet,  but 
that  Fauns  have  men's  feet  and  little  tails." 

"Who  says  that?"  asked  Felix,  indignantly. 

"Why,  here  it  is  in  print,"  replied  Use.  And  as 
she  spoke  she  showed  an  open  book  to  her  husband. 

"But  it  is  not  true,"  answered  the  Professor,  as 
he  explained  the  matter  to  her.  "The  Greeks  had 
Satyrs,  the  Romans  Fauns.  The  gentleman  with  the 
goat's  foot  is  called  Pan.  But  how  did  this  Bacchan- 
alian train  get  into  your  household  ?  " 

"You  said  yesterday  that  the  Councillor  of  the 
Consistory  had  a  Faun's  face.  Then  the  question 
arose  what  is  a  Faun's  face,  and  what  is  a  Faun  ? 
Laura  remembered  perfectly  having  learnt  at  school 
that  he  was  a  fabulous  creature  of  the  Romans,  and 
she  brought  the  book  in  which  these  creatures  are 
portrayed.  What  a  wild  set  they  are  !  Why  have  they 
pointed  ears  like  the  deer,  and  what  have  you  to 
say,  if  even  in  such  things  one  cannot  rely  on  your 
books?" 

"Come  here,"  said  Felix,  "and  I  will  soon  intro- 
duce you  to  the  whole  company."  He  selected  a  book 
of  engravings  and  showed  her  the  figures  of  the  whole 
train  of  Bacchus.  For  a  time  the  instruction  went  on 
well ;  but  then  Use  objected,  saying  :  "They  all  have 
very  few  clothes -on." 


AMONG    THE    LEARNED.  271 

"Art  cares  more  for  the  body  than  for  dress," 
said  her  husband. 

But  Use  at  last  became  uneasy;  she  closed  the  book 
and  exclaimed,  coloring;  "I  must  go;  my  help  is 
needed  in  the  kitchen  to-day,  as  a  new  pudding  has 
to  be  made.  That  is  my  high  school,  and  the  servant 
is  still  a  novice."  She  hastened  out.  Once  more 
popping  her  head  through  the  door,  she  exclaimed, 
"Tell  your  Satyrs  and  Fauns  that  I  had  a  better  opin- 
ion of  them  ;  they  are  very  immodest." 

"They  are  indeed,"  exclaimed  Felix,  "and  they 
make  no  pretensions  to  being  otherwise." 

At  dinner,  when  Felix  had  sufficiently  admired  the 
pudding,  Use,  laying  down  her  spoon,  said  seriously  : 
"Do  not  show  me  such  pictures  again.  I  would  like 
to  love  your  heathens,  but  I  cannot  if  they  are  like 
that. " 

"They  are  not  all  so  bad,"  said  her  husband,  con- 
solingly ;  "if  you  like,  we  will  this  evening  pay  a  visit 
to  some  of  the  notables  of  antiquity." 

With  this  day  Use  began  a  new  period  of  learning. 
Soon  a  fixed  hour  was  arranged  for  her  husband's  ex- 
planations— the  most  valuable  part  of  the  day  to  Use. 
First  the  Professor  gave  her  a  short  description  of  the 
great  civilized  nations  of  antiquity  and  the  middle 
ages,  and  wrote  down  a  few  names  and  dates  for  her 
that  she  learnt  by  heart.  He  pointed  out  to  her  that 
the  whole  life  of  man  was,  in  fact,  nothing  but  an  un- 
ceasing receiving,  transforming,  and  giving  forth  of  the 
materials,  pictures,  and  impressions  presented  by  the 
surrounding  world ;  that  the  whole  intellectual  de- 
velopment of  man  is,  in  fact,  nothing  but  an  earnest 
and  reverent  search  after  truth  ;  and  that  the  whole  of 
political  history  is,  in  fact,  nothing  but  the  gradual  sub- 


E? 


272  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

duing  of  that  egotism  which  produces  disunion  between 
men  and  nations,  by  the  creation  of  new  wants,  the 
increase  of  a  feeling  of  duty  and  the  growth  of  love 
and  respect  for  all  mankind. 

After  this  preparation  the  Professor  began  to  read 
the  Odyssey  aloud  to  her,  adding  short  explanations. 
Never  had  poetry  so  grand  and  pure  an  influence  upon 
her  soul  ;  the  lively  legendary  style  of  the  first  part 
and  the  powerful  development  of  the  second  quite 
captivated  her  heart.  The  characters  became  almost 
like  living  forms  to  her  ;  she  wandered,  suffered,  and 
triumphed  with  them  —  raised  into  a  new  world  of 
more  beautiful  images  and  higher  feelings.  Then 
when  the  conclusion  came  and  the  long-suffering 
Ulysses  sat  opposite  to  his  wife,  the  bold  touches  of 
the  scene  of  recognition  struck  a  secret  chord  in  the 
heart  of  the  young  wife.  Deep  was  the  impression. 
She  sat  near  her  beloved  husband,  her  cheeks  suffused  * 
with  blushes,  her  eyes  moist  with  tears  and  modestly 
cast  down  ;  and  when  he  ended  she  clasped  her  white 
arms  round  his  neck  and  sank  on  his  breast,  lost 
in  transport  and  emotion.  Her  soul  woke  up,  as  it 
were,  from  long  repose  and  glowed  with  deep  feeling. 
The  immortal  beauties  of  this  poem  cast  a  radiance 
over  every  hour  of  the  day,  over  her  language,  nay, 
over  her  bearing.  She  took  pleasure  in  trying  to  read 
aloud  herself,  and  the  Professor  listened  with  heartfelt 
pleasure  as  the  majestic  verses  rolled  melodiously 
from  her  lips,  and  as  she  unconsciously  imitated  his 
mode  of  speech  and  the  modulations  of  his  voice. 
When  in  the  morning  he  went  to  his  lecture  and  she 
helped  him  to  put  on  his  brown  duffel  overcoat  he  was 
greeted  with  the  pleasant  rhythm  of  this  hexameter  : 

"Purple  and  rough  was  the  coat  of  the  cunning  and  noble  Ulysses." 


AMONG    THE    LEARNED. 


273 


And  when  she  sat  opposite  to  him  during  her  hour 
of  instruction  and  he  came  to  a  pause,  these  words  of 
admiration  broke  from  her  lips  : 

"Thus  thou  cleverly  thinkest,  and  wisely  speakest  thou  always." 

And  when  she  wished  to  praise  herself,  she  mur- 
mured to  the  singing  of  the  boiling  kettle  : 

"  Even  in  me  lives  wit,  to  discover  the  good  from  the  evil, 
Formerly  though  I  was  but  a  child." 

Even  the  estate  of  her  dear  father  now  seemed  to 
her  illuminated  with  the  golden  splendor  of  the  Hellenic 
sun. 

"I  do  not  understand,"  said  her  father  one  even- 
ing to  Clara,  "how  it  is  possible  that  Use  should  so 
quickly  have  forgotten  our  farming  customs.  In  her 
.  letters  she  speaks  of  the  time  when  the  cattle  shall 
again  wander  in  the  wide  plains  ;  she  means,  I  sup- 
pose, the  fallow  fields  ;  for  we  feed  our  cattle  in  the 

stalls." 

* 
'*  * 

The  north  wind  howled  round  the  two  neighboring 
houses,  and  covered  the  window  panes  with  ice  flowers ; 
but  within  doors  one  day  followed  the  other  with  varied 
coloring  and  full  of  light,  and  each  evening,  more  en- 
joyable than  the  other,  passed  over  the  heads  of  the 
happy  couple,  whether  they  were  alone  or  whether 
the  friends  of  the  husband,  the  instructors  of  the  peo- 
ple, sat  with  them  at  the  tea-table  where  a  simple 
meal  was  spread. 

For  the  friends  of  the  husband  and  their  clever 
conversations  are  pleasant  to  the  lady  of  the  house. 
The  lamp  throws  a  festive  light  in  Use's  chamber,  the 
curtains  are  drawn,  the  table  welF-furnished,  and  a 
decanter  of  wine  is  placed  on  it  when  the  gentlemen 
enter.  Frequently  the  conversation  begins  with  trifles  ; 


274  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

the  friends  wish  to  show  their  esteem  for  the  Pro- 
fessor's wife — one  talks  a  little  about  concerts  and  an- 
other recommends  a  new  picture  or  book.  But  some- 
times they  come  out  from  the  study  in  eager  conver- 
sation; their  discourse  is  not  always  quite  within  her 
comprehension,  nor  always  very  attractive,  but  on  the 
whole  it  gives  her  pleasure  and  refreshes  her  mind. 
Then  Use  sits  quietly  there,  her  hands,  which  have 
been  active  in  her  work,  fall  into  her  lap,  and  she 
listens  reverently.  No  one  who  is  not  a  professor's 
wife  can  have  any  idea  how  charmingly  the  conversa- 
tion of  the  learned  flows.  All  can  speak  well,  all  are 
eager,  and  all  have  a  composed  manner  that  becomes 
them  well.  Discussion  arises  and  they  begin  to  argue 
on  weighty  points,  their  opinions  clash,  they  contra- 
dict each  other,  one  says  that  something  is  black,  an- 
other that  it  is  white  ;  the  first  shows  that  he  is  in  the 
right  and  the  second  refutes  him  and  drives  him  into 
a  corner.  Now  his  wife  thinks,  how  will  he  get  out  of 
this ;  but  she  need  have  no  anxiety,  he  is  not  at  a 
loss — by  a  sudden  sally  he  gains  the  advantage  ;  then 
the  other  comes  with  new  reasons  and  carries  the  mat- 
ter still  further,  and  the  others  join  in,  they  become 
eager  and  their  voices  are  raised,  and  whether  at  last 
they  convince  one  another  or  each  remains  of  his  own 
opinion — which  is  frequently  the  case — it  is  always  a 
pleasure  to  see  light  thrown  on  difficult  questions  from 
all  sides.  If  one  of  them  has  said  something  really 
important  and  arrived  at  the  heart  of  the  matter,  it 
puts  them  all  into  an  elevated  mood ;  it  seems  as  if  a 
supernatural  light  had  burst  in  on  them.  But  the 
cleverest  of  all,  and  he  whose  opinion  is  listened  to 
with  the  greatest  respect,  is  always  the  dear  husband 
of  the  lady  of  the  house. 


AMONG    THE    LEARNED.  .  275 

Use,  however,  remarked  that  all  the  learned  gentle- 
men had  not  the  same  amiable  character.  Some 
could  not  bear  opposition  and  seemed  in  weak  mo- 
ments to  consider  their  own  importance  more  than  the 
advancement  of  truth.  Again,  one  would  only  speak 
and  would  not  listen,  and  narrowed  the  conversation 
by  always  returning  to  the  point  which  the  others  had 
already  surmounted.  She  discovered  that  even  an 
unlearned  woman  could,  from  the  discourse  of  the  wise 
men,  discern  something  of  their  character  ;  and  when 
the  guests  were  gone  she  ventured  to  express  a  mod- 
est judgment  upon  the  learning  and  character  of  in- 
dividuals, and  she  was  proud  when  Felix  allowed  that 
she  had  judged  rightly. 

In  such  conversations  the  wife  of  the  scholar  learned 
much  that  to  other  women  remained  incomprehen- 
sible. Thus,  for  instance,  there  were  the  Roman  ple- 
beians. Few  women  understand  what  they  were.  The 
old  plebeians  never  gave  tea-parties,  never  played  on 
grand  pianos,  never  wore  hoop-skirts  and  never  read 
French  novels.  This  class  is  a  very  odious  institu- 
tion which  has  been  buried  in  the  ruins  of  antiquity. 
But  the  wife  of  a  philologist  is  informed  concerning 
all  this.  It  would  be  impossible  to  recount  all  that 
Use  heard  about  plebeians  and  patricians.  Silently 
she  sympathized  with  the  plebeians.  She  entirely  re- 
pudiated the  idea  that  they  consisted  of  insignificant 
people  and  a  wanton  rabble,  and  considered  them  to 
be  sturdy  farmers  and  fearless  politicians  who,  in  uni- 
son, valiantly  fought  against  the  unjust  patricians  to 
the  very  end.  In  connection  with  this  she  thought  of 
her  father,  and  at  times  wondered  whether  some  of 
her  acquaintances  would  not  have  been  plebeians  had 
they  been  Romans. 


A 


[7 


276  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

The  gentlemen  were  very  friendly  to  her  and  al- 
most all  had  one  quality  which  made  their  intercourse 
very  pleasant  —  they  were  always  willing  to  explain. 
At  first  Use  did  not  like  to  admit  that  she  knew  noth- 
ing of  many  subjects;  but  one  evening  she  seated  her- 
self by  her  husband  and  began  :  "I  have  come  to  one 
conclusion.  Hitherto  I  have  been  afraid  to  ask  ques- 
tions, not  because  I  was  ashamed  of  my  ignorance, 
why  should  I  be  ?  but  on  your  account,  that  people 
might  not  remark  what  a  silly  wife  you  have.  But  if 
you  approve  of  it  I  will  now  do  quite  otherwise,  for  I 
observe  that  they  take  pleasure  in  talking  and  will  be 
willing  to  favor  me  with  a  'winged  word,'  as  Homer 
says." 

"Just  so,"  said  the  husband;  "they  will  like  you 
the  better  the  more  interest  you  take  in  them." 

"  I  should  like  to  know  everything  about  the  whole 
world,  in  order  to  become  like  you.  But  I  feel  that 
I  sadly  lack  the  ability  to  comprehend  it  all." 

The  new  plan  turned  out  admirably.  Use  soon 
learnt  that  it  was  easier  to  persuade  her  friends  to  talk 
than  to  desist  from  it.  For  they  explained  to  her  con- 
scientiously and  at  great  length  what  she  wished  to 
learn  ;  but  they  sometimes  forgot  that  the  capacity  of 
a  woman  who  is  receiving  new  impressions  is  not  so 
fully  developed  as  their  own  art  of  teaching. 

They  seemed  to  her  to  hover  like  gods  over  the 
earth.  But  they  partook  of  the  lot  of  the  ambrosial 
society,  for  the  pure  peace  which  they  infused  into 
the  hearts  of  mortals  did  not  always  prevail  among 
themselves.  It  was  Use's  fate  that  soon  after  her  ar- 
rival, when  she  was  beginning  to  feel  at  home,  a  vehe- 
ment feud  broke  out  among  the  immortals  of  Olympus. 

On  a  dark  winter's  day  the  stormy  wind  beatheav- 


AMONG    THE    LEARNED.  277 

ily  against  the  window,  concealing  the  adjacent  wood 
behind  clouds  of  driving  snow.  Use  heard  in  her  hus- 
band's room  the  sharp  tones  of  Professor  Struvelius 
amid  a  weighty  flow  of  eloquence,  and  at  intervals  the 
long  and  earnest  talk  of  her  husband.  She  could  not 
distinguish  the  words,  but  the  sound  of  the  two  voices 
was  similar  to  the  whir  of  bird's  wings  or  the  rival 
singing  of  the  thrush  and  the  ill-omened  crow.  ^The 
conversation  continued  a  long  time  and  Use  wondered 
that  Struvelius  should  speak  at  such  length.  When 
at  last  he  was  gone,  Felix  entered  her  room  at  an  un- 
usual hour  and  paced  silently  up  and  down  for  some 
time,  occupied  in  deep  thought.  At  last  he  began 
abruptly  : 

"I  am  placed  in  a  position  that  obliges  me  to  commu- 
nicate with  my  colleagues  regarding  our  manuscript." 

Use  looked  up  at  him  inquiringly.  Since  her  mar- 
riage there  had  been  no  talk  about  Tacitus. 

"  I  thought  it  was  your  intention  not  to  speak  again 
of  it  to  strangers." 

"I  have  unwillingly  broken  my  silence.  I  had  no 
choice  but  J;o  be  frank  with  my  associate.  The  prov- 
ince of  Science  is  extensive  and  it  does  not  often  hap- 
pen that  associates  in  the  same  university  pitch  upon 
the  same  work.  Nay,  for  obvious  reasons,  they  avoid 
competition.  If,  therefore,  by  accident  such  a  coin- 
cidence occurs,  the  most  delicate  consideration  should 
be  mutually  shown  by  members  of  the  same  institu- 
tion. To-day  Struvelius  told  me  that  he  knew  I  had 
been  occupied  with  Tacitus  and  he  requested  some 
particulars  of  me.  He  asked  me  about  the  manuscripts 
that  I  had  seen  and  collated  years  ago  in  other  coun- 
tries and  about  the  fac-simile  of  the  characters  I  had 
made  for  myself." 


278  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"Then  you  imparted  to  him  what  you  knew?"  in- 
quired Use. 

"I  gave  him  what  I  possessed,  as  a  matter  of 
course,"  replied  the  Professor.  "For  whatever  he 
may  do  with  it  is  sure  to  be  a  gain  to  learning." 

"Then  he  will  make  use  of  your  labors  for  the  ad- 
vancement of  his  own  !  Now  he  will  appear  before  the 
world  in  your  plumes,"  lamented  Use. 

"Whether  he  will  make  proper  use  of  what  has 
been  given  him,  or  misuse  it,  is  his  affair  ;  it  is  my 
duty  to  have  confidence  in  the  honor  of  a  respectable 
colleague.  That  I  did  not  for  a  moment  doubt ;  but, 
indeed,  another  idea  occurred  to  me.  He  was  not 
quite  open  with  me  :  he  acknowledged  that  he  was 
occupied  with  a  criticism  of  certain  passages  of  Taci- 
tus ;  but  I  feel  sure  that  he  concealed  the  most  impor- 
tant particulars  from  me.  Nothing  then  remained  to 
me  but  to  tell  him  plainly  that  I  had  long  had  a  warm 
interest  in  that  author,  and  that  since  last  summer  I 
had  been  the  more  attracted  to  him  by  the  possibility 
of  a  new  discovery.  So  I  showed  him  the  account 
which  first  brought  me  into  your  neighborhood.  He 
is  a  philologist,  like  myself,  and  knows  now  of  what 
great  importance  this  author  is  to  me." 

"  My  only  consolation  is,"  said  Use,  "that  if  Stru- 
velius  wishes  to  disinter  the  manuscript  in  our  place, 
a  hard  fate  awaits  him  at  the  hands  of  my  sensible 
father." 

The  thought  of  the  defiance  of  his  stern  father-in- 
law  was  consoling  to  the  Professor,  and  he  laughed. 

"  On  this  point  1  am  safe  ;  but  what  can  he  want 
with  Tacitus  ? — his  department  was  formerly  not  con- 
cerned with  the  historians.  It  can  scarcely  be  imag- 
ined. But  the  most  improbable  things  happen  !  Has, 


AMONG    THE    LEARNED.  379 

perhaps,  the  lost  manuscript,  by  any  accident,  been 
found  and  got  into  his  hands?  But  it  is  folly  to  worry 
about  that." 

He  strode  vehemently  up  and  down,  and,  shaking 
his  wife's  hand  with  great  emotion;  exclaimed  at  last : 

"It  is  so  vexatious  to  find  oneself  mastered  by 
selfish  feelings." 

He  again  went  to  his  work  and  when  Use  gently 
opened  the  door  she  saw  him  busy  writing.  Toward 
evening,  however,  when  she  looked  after  his  lamp  and 
announced  the  arrival  of  the  Doctor,  he  was  sitting 
leaning  his  head  on  his  hand  in  moody  thought.  She 
stroked  his  hair  gently  but  he  scarcely  noticed  it. 

The  Doctor  did  not  take  the  affair  so  much  to 
heart ;  but  was  very  angry,  both  at  the  secret  dealings 
of  the  other  and  at  the  magnanimity  of  his  friend,  and 
a  lively  discussion  ensued. 

"May  you  never  regret  this  frank  action  on  your 
part  !  "  exclaimed  the  Doctor.  "  The  man  will  coin 
money  from  your  silver.  Believe  me,  he  will  play  you 
a  trick." 

"After  all,"  concluded  the  Professor  thoughtfully, 
"it  is  not  worth  while  to  excite  myself  about  it. 
Should  he,  by  any  improbable  and  unforeseen  acci- 
dent, really  have  come  into  possession  of  something 
new,  he  has  a  right  to  all  the  materials  at  hand — both 
to  what  I  have  collected  and  to  my  assistance,  so  far 
as  it  is  in  my  power  to  give  it.  If  he  is  only  exer- 
cising his  critical  acumen  on  the  existing  text,  all  he 
may  be  able  to  accomplish  will  be  insignificant  as  com- 
pared with  our  childlike  expectations." 

Thus  imperceptibly  and  harmlessly  did  this  cloud 
arise  on  the  academical  horizon. 

A  month  had  passed,  and  the  Professor  had  often 


280 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


met  his  colleague.  It  could  not  be  deemed  strange 
that  Struvelius  never  let  the  name  of  Tacitus  pass  his 
silent  lips  ;  nevertheless,  the  Professor  watched  the 
conduct  of  his  colleague  with  concern,  for  he  thought 
he  noticed  that  the  other  avoided  him. 

One  quiet  evening  Felix  Werner  was  sitting  with 
Use  and  the  Doctor  at  the  tea-table,  when  Gabriel 
entered  and  laid  a  small  pamphlet,  wrapped  in  a  com- 
mon newspaper,  before  the  Professor.  The  Professor 
tore  off  the  cover,  glanced  at  the  title,  and  silently 
handed  the  pamphlet  to  the  Doctor.  The  Latin  title 
of  the  book,  translated,  was  this:  "A  Fragment  of 
Tacitus  ;  Being  a  Trace  of  a  Lost  Manuscript.  Com- 
municated by  Dr.  Friedobald  Struvelius,  etc."  With- 
out saying  a  word  the  friends  rose  and  carried  the 
treatise  into  the  Professor's  study.  Use  remained  be- 
hind, startled.  She  heard  her  husband  reading  the 
Latin  text  aloud  and  perceived  that  he  was  compel- 
ling himself  to  master  his  excitement  by  slow  and 
firm  reading.  The  story  of  this  fatal  writing  must  not 
be  withheld  from  the  reader. 

Older  contemporaries  of  the  period  in  which  to- 
bacco was  smoked  in  pipes,  know  the  value  of  the 
twisted  paper-lighter,  an  invention  which  was  com- 
monly called  a  fidibus;  they  know  the  normal  length 
and  breadth  of  such  a  strip  of  paper  which  our  fathers 
formerly  used  to  make  out  of  musty  old  records.  Such 
a  strip,  certainly  not  of  paper,  but  cut  from  a  sheet  of 
parchment,  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  author. 
But  the  strip  had  previously  undergone  a  hard  fate. 
Two  hundred  years  before  it  had  been  glued  by  a  book- 
binder on  the  back  of  a  thick  volume,  to  strengthen 
the  binding,  and  he  had  for  this  object  covered  it 
thickly  with  glue.  On  the  removal  of  the  glue  there 


AMONG    THE    LEARNED.  281 

appeared  characters  of  an  old  monk's  writing.  The 
word  Amen  and  some  holy  names  made  it  certain  that 
what  was  written  had  served  to  promote  Christian 
piety.  But  under  this  monk's  writing  other  and  larger 
Latin  characters  were  visible,  very  faded,  indeed  al- 
most entirely  defaced,  from  which  one  could,  with 
some  difficulty,  distinguish  the  Roman  name  Piso. 
Now,  Professor  Struvelius  had,  by  perseverance,  and 
by  the  employment  of  certain  chemicals,  made  it  pos- 
sible to  read  this  under-writing,  and  from  the  form  of 
the  characters  he  saw  that  it  was  a  work  of  antiquity. 
But  as  the  parchment  fidibus  was  only  a  piece  cut 
from  an  entire  sheet,  it  naturally  did  not  contain  com- 
plete sentences,  only  single  words,  which  fell  on  the 
soul  of  the  reader  like  the  lost  notes  of  distant  music 
borne  by  thfe  wind  to  the  ear  :  no  melody  could  be 
made  from  it.  It  was  that  which  had  attracted  the 
author.  He  had  ascertained  and  filled  in  the  dis- 
jointed words  and  guessed  at  the  whole  of  the  remain- 
ing leaf.  By  the  wonderful  application  of  great  learn- 
ing, he  had,  from  a  few  shadowy  spots  of  the  fidibus, 
restored  the  whole  page  of  a  parchment  writing,  as  it 
might  have  read  twelve  hundred  years  ago.  It  was  an 
astonishing  work. 

The  most  distinctly  written  of  the  characters  on  this 
strip  of  parchment,  though  scarcely  legible  to  the 
common  eye,  was  the  name  of  Pontifex  Piso — literally 
translated,  Peas  the  Bridgemaker.  The  parchment 
strip  appeared  very  much  concerned  about  Peas,  for 
the  name  occurred  several  times.  But  the  editor  had 
shown  from  this  name,  and  from  fragments  of  de- 
stroyed words,  that  the  strip  of  parchment  was  the 
last  remains  of  a  manuscript  of  Tacitus,  and  that  the 
words  belonged  to  a  lost  portion  of  the  Annals  ;  and 


282  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

he  had  at  last  proved  from  the  character  of  the  shad- 
owy letters  that  the  strip  of  parchment  did  not  belong 
to  any  extant  manuscript  of  the  Roman,  but  that  it 
was  a  part  of  one  quite  unknown,  which  had  been  de- 
stroyed. 

After  reading  the  treatise  the  friends  sat  gloomy 
and  thoughtful.  At  last  the  Doctor  exclaimed  : 

"How  unfriendly  to  conceal  this  from  you,  and 
yet  to  call  upon  you  for  assistance." 

"  That  signifies  little,"  replied  the  Professor.  "  But 
I  cannot  approve  of  the  work  itself ;  hypercritical 
acuteness  is  applied  to  an  uncertain  matter,  and  ob- 
jections might  be  made  against  much  that  he  has  re- 
stored and  supposed.  But  why  do  you  not  say  openly 
what  interests  us  both  much  more  than  the  mistakes 
of  a  whimsical  man  ?  We  are  on  the  track  of  a  manu- 
script of  Tacitus,  and  here  we  find  a  fragment  of  such  a 
manuscript,  which  has  been  cut  up  by  a  bookbinder 
after  the  Thirty  Years'  War.  The  gain  which  might  ac- 
crue to  our  knowledge  from  this  little  fragment  is  so 
insignificant  that  it  would  not  pay  for  the  energy  ex- 
pended on  it,  being  a  matter  of  indifference  to  all  the 
world  except  to  us.  For,  my  friend,  if  a  manuscript  of 
Tacitus  has  really  been  cut  into  such  strips,  it  is  in 
all  probability  the  same  which  we  have  been  in  search 
of.  What  is  the  result ?"  he  added,  bitterly.  "We 
free  ourselves  from  a  dreamy  vision  which  has  perhaps 
too  long  made  fools  of  us." 

"  How  can  this  parchment  be  a  part  of  the  manu- 
script of  our  friend  Bachhuber?"  asked  the  Doctor; 
!<<many  prayers  have  been  written  here  over  the  old 
text." 

"Who  can  assure  us  that  the  monks  of  Rossau 
have  not  written  their  spiritual  aspirations  over  at 


AMONG    THE    LEARNED.  283 

least  some  faded  sheets  ?  It  is  not  usual,  but  never- 
theless possible." 

"Above  all,  you  must  see  Struvelius's  parchment 
strip  yourself,"  said  the  Doctor,  decidedly.  "  An  ac- 
curate examination  may  explain  much." 

"It  is  not  agreeable  to  me  to  speak  to  him  about 
it,  yet  I  shall  do  so  to-morrow." 

The  day  following  the  Professor  entered  the  room 
of  his  colleague  Struvelius  more  composedly. 

"  You  can  imagine."  he  began,  "  that  I  have  read 
your  treatise  with  especial  interest.  After  what  I  have 
communicated  to  you  concerning  an  unknown  manu- 
script of  Tacitus,  you  must  perceive  that  our  prospect 
of  discovering  this  manuscript  is  very  much  dimin- 
ished, if  the  strip  of  parchment  has  been  cut  from  the 
leaves  of  a  Tacitus  which  was  preserved  in  Germany 
two  hundred  years  ago." 

"  If  it  has  been  cut  ?  "  repeated  Struvelius,  sharply. 
"It  has  been  cut  from  it.  And  what  you  have  com- 
municated to  me  about  this  concealed  treasure  at  Ros- 
sau  was  very  indefinite  and  I  am  not  of  the  opinion 
that  much  value  is  to  be  attached  to  it.  If,  in  reality, 
there  was  a  manuscript  of  Tacitus  in  existence  there, 
it  has  undoubtedly  been  cut  up,  and  this  ends  the 
question." 

"If  such  a  manuscript  was  in  existence  there?" 
retorted  Felix.  "  It  was  in  existence.  But  I  have 
come  to  request  you  to  show  me  the  parchment  leaf. 
Since  the  contents  have  been  published  there  can  be 
no  objection  to  it." 

Struvelius  looked  embarrassed  and  answered  :  "I 
regret  that  I  cannot  meet  your  wishes,  which  are  cer- 
tainly quite  justifiable,  but  I  am  no  longer  in  posses- 
sion of  the  strip." 


284 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


"To  whom  am  I  to  apply?"  asked  the  Professor, 
surprised. 

''Even  upon  that  point  I  am  at  present  obliged  to 
be  silent." 

"That  is  strange,"  exclaimed  Felix  ;  "and  forgive 
.me  for  speaking  plainly,  it  is  worse  than  unfriendly. 
For  be  the  importance  of  this  fragment  great  or  little, 
it  ought  not  to  be  withdrawn  from  the  eyes  of  others 
after  the  publication  of  its  contents.  It  is  incumbent 
upon  you  to  enable  others  to  prove  the  correctness  of 
your  restoration  of  the  text." 

"That  I  allow,"  replied  Struvelius.  "  But  I  am 
not  in  a  position  to  enable  you  to  see  this  strip." 

"Have  you  sufficiently  considered,"  exclaimed  the 
Professor,  excitedly,  "  that  by  this  refusal  you  expose 
yourself  to  the  misinterpretation  of  strangers,  to 
charges  which  never  ought  to  be  brought  in  contact 
with  your  name  ?  " 

"I  consider  myself  quite  capable  of  being  the 
keeper  of  my  own  good  name  and  must  beg  of  you'  to 
leave  its  care  entirely  in  my  hands." 

"Then  I  have  nothing  further  to  say  to  you,"  re- 
plied Felix,  and  went  toward  the  door. 

In  going  he  observed  that  the  middle  door  opened, 
and  the  Professor's  wife,  alarmed  at  the  loud  tones  of 
the  speakers,  made  her  appearance  like  a  good  spirit, 
with  her  hands  stretched  imploringly  toward  him.  But 
he,  after  a  hurried  salutation,  closed  the  door  and 
went  angrily  home. 

The  cloud  had  gathered  and  the  heavens  were 
darkened.  The  Professor  once  more  took  up  the  treat- 
ise of  his  ungracious  colleague.  It  was  as  if  a  moun- 
tain-lion, wildly  shaking  his  mane,  had  dashed  in  upon 
the  prey  of  a  lynx  or  fox,  and  wresting  the  booty  from 


AMONG    THE    LEARNED.  285 

the  clutches  of  the  weaker  animal,  ignominiously 
routed  him. 

Twice  Use  called  her  husband  to  dinner  in  vain  ; 
when  she  approached  his  chair  anxiously  she  saw  a 
disturbed  countenance.  "I  cannot  eat,"  he  said, 
abruptly;  "send  over  and  ask  Fritz  to  come  here  di- 
rectly. " 

Use,  alarmed,  sent  for  their  neighbor  and  seated 
herself  in  the  Professor's  room,  following  him  with 
her  eyes  as  he  strode  up  and  down.  "What  has  so 
excited  you,  Felix?"  she  asked,  anxiously. 

"I  beg  of  you,  dear  wife,  to  dine  without  me  to- 
day," he  said,  continuing  his  rapid  strides. 

The  Doctor  entered  hastily.  "The  fragment  is 
not  from  a  manuscript  of  Tacitus,"  said  the  Professor, 
to  his  friend. 

"  Vivat  Bachhuber  !  "  replied  he,  while  still  at  the 
door,  waving  his  hat. 

"There  is  no  reason  to  rejoice,"  interrupted  the 
Professor,  gloomily;  "the  fragment,  wherever  it  may 
have  come  from,  contains  a  passage  of  Tacitus." 

"It  must  have  come  from  some  place,"  said  the 
Doctor. 

"No,"  cried  the  Professor,  loudly;  "the  whole  is 
a  forgery.  The  upper  part  of  the  text  contains  words 
put  together  at  random  and  the  attempts  of  the  editor 
to  bring  them  into  a  rational  connection  are  not  happy. 
The  lower  portion  of  the  so-called  fragment  has  been 
transcribed  from  one  of  the  old  fathers,  who  has  intro- 
duced a  hitherto  unobserved  sentence  of  Tacitus.  The 
forger  has  written  certain  words  of  this  quotation 
under  one  another  on  the  parchment  strip,  regularly 
omitting  the  words  lying  between.  This  cannot  be 
doubted." 


286  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

He  led  the  Doctor,  who  now  looked  as  much  per- 
plexed as  himself,  to  his  books,  and  demonstrated  to 
him  the  correctness  of  his  statement. 

"The  forger  gathered  his  learning  from  the  printed 
text  of  the  father,  for  he  has  been  clumsy  enough  to 
transcribe  an  error  in  the  print  made  by  the  compos- 
itor. So  there  is  an  end  of  the  parchment  sheet  and 
of  a  German  scholar  also  !  " 

He  took  out  his  handkerchief  to  dry  the  perspira- 
tion on  his  forehead  and  threw  himself  into  a  chair. 

"  Hold  !  "  exclaimed  the  Doctor.  "  Here  the  honor 
and  reputation  of  a  scholar  are  concerned.  Let  us  once 
more  examine  calmly  whether  this  may  not  be  an  acci- 
dental coincidence." 

"Try,  if  you  can,"  said  the  Professor  ;  "I  have 
done  with  it." 

The  Doctor  long  and  anxiously  collated  the  re- 
stored text  of  Struvelius  with  the  printed  words  of  the 
father. 

At  last  he  said  sorrowfully  :  "What  Struvelius  has 
restored  agrees  with  the  sense  and  tenor  of  the  words 
of  the  father  so  remarkably,  that  one  cannot  help  con- 
sidering the  slight  variation  in  the  words  of  his  resto- 
ration as  a  cunning  concealment  of  his  acquaintance 
with  the  quotation  ;  but  still  it  is  not  impossible  that 
by  good  luck  and  acuteness  a  person  might  arrive  at 
the  true  connection,  as  he  found  it." 

"I  do  not  doubt  for  a  moment  that  Struvelius 
made  the  restoration  honorably  and  in  good  faith," 
replied  the  'Professor  ;  "but  still  his  position  is  as  an- 
noying as  possible.  Deceiver  or  deceived,  the  unfortu- 
nate treatise  is  a  terrible  humiliation,  not  only  for  him 
but  for  our  University." 

"The  words  of  the   parchment  strip  itself,  "  con- 


A 


!7 


AMONG    THE    LEARNED.  287 

tinued  the  Doctor,  "are  undoubtedly  transcribed  and 
undoubtedly  a  forgery  ;  and  it  is  your  duty  to  reveal 
the  true  state  of  the  case." 

"The  duty  of  my  husband  !  "  exclaimed  Use,  ris- 
ing. 

"Of  him  who  has  discovered  the  forgery,  and  if 
Struvelius  were  his  most  intimate  friend,  Felix  would 
have  to  do  it." 

"Explain  it  first  to  him,"  implored  Use.  "  Do  not 
treat  him  as  he  has  treated  you.  If  he  has  been  in 
error  let  him  repair  it  himself." 

The  Professor  reflected  a  moment  and  nodding  to 
his  friend  said  :  "She  is  right."  He  hastened  to  the 
table  and  wrote  to  Professor  Struvelius,  expressing 
a  wish  to  speak  to  him  immediately  on  an  important 
subject.  He  gave  the  letter  to  Gabriel  and  his  heart 
felt  lighter  ;  he  was  now  ready  to  enjoy  his  dinner. 

Use  begged  the  Doctor  to  remain  with  her  hus- 
band and  endeavored  to  lead  their  thoughts  to  other 
subjects.  She  took  a  letter  from  Mrs.  Rollmaus  from 
her  pocket,  in  which  the  latter  begged  Use  to  send 
her  something  profound  to  read,  selected  by  the  Pro- 
fessor; and  Use  expressed  a  wish  that  they  might  thus 
make  some  return  for  the  partridges  and  other  game 
that  Mrs.  Rollmaus  had  sent  to  them.  This  helped 
in  some  degree  to  cast  the  sanguinary  thoughts  of  the 
gloomy  men  into  the  background.  At  last  she  pro- 
duced a  huge  round  sausage,  which  Mrs.  Rollmaus 
had  especially  destined  for  the  Doctor,  and  placed  it 
on  the  table.  When  they  looked  at  the  sausage  as  it 
lay  there  so  peaceable  and  comfortable  in  its  ample 
dimensions,  encircled  by  a  blue  ribbon,  it  was  impos- 
sible not  to  acknowledge  that,  in  spite  of  false  appear- 
ances and  empty  presumption,  there  was  still  some- 


288  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

thing  sterling  to  be  found  on  earth.  As  they  contem- 
plated the  good  solid  dish,  their  hearts  softened,  and 
a  gentle  smile  betrayed  their  natural  human  weakness. 

There  was  a  ring  at  the  door  and  Professor  Stru- 
velius  made  his  appearance.  The  Professor  collected 
himself  and  went  with  firm  steps  into  his  room  ;  the 
Doctor  went  quietly  away,  promising  to  return  again 
shortly. 

It  must  have  been  apparent  to  Struvelius,  after  a 
glance  at  his  colleague,  that  their  last  conversation 
was  doomed  to  throw  a  shadow  over  their  present 
meeting,  for  he  looked  frightened  and  his  hair  stood 
on  end.  The  Professor  laid  before  him  the  printed 
passage  of  the  old  monk  and  only  added  these  words : 
"This  passage  has  possibty  escaped  you." 

"It  has,  indeed,"  exclaimed  Struvelius,  and  sat  for 
some  time  poring  over  it.  "I  ought  to  be  satisfied 
with  this  confirmation,"  he  said  at  last,  looking  up 
from  the  folio. 

But  the  Professor  laid  his  finger  on  the  book,  say- 
ing : 

"An  extraordinary  typographical  error  in  this  edi- 
tion has  been  copied  into  the  text  of  the  parchment 
strip  which  you  have  restored — an  error  which  is  cor- 
rected at  the  end  of  the  book.  The  words  of  the 
parchment  strip  are  thus  partly  put  together  from  this 
printed  passage  and  are  a  forgery." 

Struvelius  remained  mute,  but  he  was  much 
alarmed,  and  looked  anxiously  upon  the  contracted 
brow  of  his  colleague. 

"It  will  now  be  to  your  interest  to  give  the  neces- 
sary explanations  concerning  this  forgery  to  the  pub- 
lic." 

"A  forgery  is  impossible,"  retorted  Struvelius,  in- 


AMONG    THE    LEARNED.  289 

cautiously.  "  I  myself  removed  the  old  glue  that  cov- 
ered the  text  from  the  parchmeut." 

"Yet  you  tell  me  that  the  strip  is  not  in  your  pos- 
session. You  will  believe  that  it  is  no  pleasure  to  me 
to  enter  the  ranks  against  a  colleague ;  therefore  you 
yourself  must  without  delay  make  the  whole  matter 
public.  For  it  stands  to  reason  the  forgery  must  be 
made  known." 

Struvelius  reflected. 

"I  take  for  granted  that  you  speak  with  the  best 
intentions,"  he  began  at  last,  "but  I  am  firmly  con- 
vinced that  the  parchment  is  genuine,  and  I  must  leave 
it  to  you  to  do  what  you  consider  your  duty.  If  you 
choose  to  attack  your  colleague  publicly,  I  shall  do  my 
best  to  bear  it." 

Having  said  this,  Struvelius  went  away  obdurate, 
but  much  disquieted,  and  matters  took  their  evil 
course.  Use  saw  with  sorrow  how  severely  her  hus- 
band suffered  from  the  obstinacy  of  his  colleague. 
The  Professor  set  to  work  and  published  a  short  state- 
ment of  the  affair  in  the  classical  magazine  to  which 
he  contributed.  He  introduced  the  fatal  passage  of 
the  monk,  and  forbearingly  expressed  his  regret  that 
the  acute  author  of  the  pamphlet  had  thus  been  im- 
posed upon  by  a  forgery. 

This  decisive  condemnation  created  a  tremendous 
sensation  in  the  University.  Like  a  disturbed  swarm 
of  bees,  the  colleagues  moved  about  confusedly.  Stru- 
velius had  but  few  warm  friends,  but- he  had  no  oppo- 
nents. It  is  true  that  in  the  first  few  days  after  this 
literary  condemnation,  he  was  considered  as  done  for. 
But  he  himself  was  not  of  this  opinion  and  composed 
a  rejoinder.  In  this  he  boasted,  not  without  self  com- 
placency, of  the  satisfactory  confirmation  of  his  resto- 


290  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

ration  by  the  passage  in  the  monk's  writing,  which  he 
had  undoubtedly  overlooked  ;  he  treated  the  coinci- 
dence of  the  error  in  printing  with  that  in  his  parch- 
ment as  an  extraordinary,  but  in  no  ways  unheard  of 
accident;  and  finally,  he  did  not  scruple  to  cast  some 
sharp,  covert  hints  at  other  scholars,  who  considered 
certain  authors  as  their  own  peculiar  domain,  and  de- 
spised a  small  accidental  discovery,  though  an  un- 
prejudiced judge  could  not  hope  for  a  greater. 

This  offensive  allusion  to  the  hidden  manuscript 
cut  the  Professor  to  the  quick,  but  he  proudly  dis- 
dained to  enter  into  any  further  contest  before  the 
public.  The  rejoinder  of  Struvelius  was  certainly  un- 
successful ;  but  it  had  the  effect  of  giving  courage  to 
those  members  of  the  University  who  were  ill-disposed 
toward  Felix  to  join  the  side  of  his  opponent.  The 
thing  was,  at  all  events,  doubtful,  they  said,  and  it 
was  contrary  to  good  fellowship  to  accuse  a  colleague 
openly  of  such  a  great  oversight;  the  assailant  might 
have  left  it  to  others  to  do  so.  But  the  better  portion 
of  the  leading  members  of  the  University  contended 
from  the  camp  of  the  Professor  against  these  weak 
ones.  Some  of  the  most  distinguished,  among  them 
all  those  who  assembled  at  Use's  tea-table,  determined 
that  the  affair  should  not  drop.  In  fact,  the  quarrel 
was  So  unfavorable  to  Struvelius,  that  it  was  seriously 
represented  to  him  that  he  was  bound  in  honor  to  give 
some  kind  of  explanation  of  the  parchment ;  but  he 
kept  silent  against  this  array  of  propositions  as  best 
he  could. 

Even  the  evenings  in  Use's  room  assumed  from  this 
circumstance  a  warlike  character.  Their  most  intimate 
friends — the  Doctor,  the  Mineralogist,  and,  not  last, 
Raschke — sat  there  as  a  council  of  war,  consulting 


THE  PROFESSOR'S  BALL. 


291 


against  the  enemy.  Raschke  acknowledged  one  even- 
ing that  he  had  just  been  with  the  obstinate  opponent 
and  had  implored  of  him,  at  least  to  contrive  that  a 
third  person  should  obtain  a  view  of  the  parchment.. 
Struvelius  had  in  some  measure  relented  and  had  re- 
gretted that  he  had  promised  silence,  because  a  pros- 
pect had  been  held  out  to  him  of  obtaining  other  rare 
manuscripts.  Then  Raschke  had  conjured  him  to  re- 
nounce such  dubious  treasures  and  thus  to  buy  back 
freedom  of  speech.  It  must  clearly  have  been  an  ani- 
mated discussion,  for  Raschke  wiped  his  nose  and 
eyes  with  a  small  fringed  tea-napkin,  which  was  Use's 
pride,  and  put  it  into  his  pocket ;  and  when  Use  laugh- 
ingly reminded  him  of  his  theft,  he  brought  out  not 
only  the  napkin,  but  also  a  silk  pocket-handkerchief, 
which  he  maintained  must  also  belong  to  Use,  although 
it  was  evidently  the  property  of  some  gentleman  who 
took  snuff.  It  was,  therefore,  hinted  that. he  might 
have  brought  the  handkerchief  from  Struvelius's  room. 
"Not  impossible, "  he  said,  "for  we  were  excited." 
The  strange  pocket-handkerchief  lay  on  a  chair  and 
was  looked  upon  by  the  party  present  with  frigid  and 
hostile  feelings. 

CHAPTER  XVI. 
THE  PROFESSORS'  BALL. 

THE  Professors'  ball  took  place  during  these  aca- 
demical disturbances.  It  was  the  only  festival  of  the 
year  which  gave  to  all  the  families  of  the  University 
the  opportunity  of  meeting  in  gay  society.  The  stu- 
dents and  town-acquaintances  were  also  invited.  The 
ball  was  an  important  event  in  the  city  and  invitations 
were  in  great  demand. 


292  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

An  academical  ball  is  something  quite  different 
from  other  balls ;  for  besides  all  the  merits  of  a  distin- 
guished meeting,  it  had  the  three  excellences  of  German 
scholarship — industry,  freedom,  and  indifference  :  in- 
dustry in  dancing,  even  in  the  case  of  the  gentlemen, 
freedom  in  agreeable  intercourse  between  young  and 
old,  and  indifference  to  uniforms  and  patent  leather 
pumps.  Of  course,  the  young  people  even  here  bore 
a  cosmopolitan  character,  for  the  same  modes  of 
dancing,  dresses,  nosegays,  and  courtesies,  glancing 
eyes  and  blushing  cheeks,  can  be  found  at  a  thousand 
similar  festivals  from  the  Neva  to  California  ;  but  any 
one  who  was  more  observant  might  perceive  in  the 
faces  of  many  of  the  girls  the  intellectual  eyes  and 
eloquent  lips  that  descended  to  them  from  their 
learned  fathers,  and  perhaps  certain  little  academical 
peculiarities  in  curls  and  ribbons.  The  old  saying 
which  came  from  a  past  generation  of  students,  that 
professors'  daughters  are  either  pretty  or  homely, 
commended  itself  here  also  to  the  notice  of  observers, 
the  ordinary  mixture  of  both  qualities  being  rare.  Be- 
sides a  few  officers  and  the  flower  of  the  city  youth, 
there  might  be  seen  among  the  dancers  here  and  there 
a  young  scholar,  thin  and  pale,  with  smooth  lank  hair, 
more  fitted  to  bend  thoughtfully  over  books  than  to 
float  about  in  the  giddy  dance.  But  what  gave  its 
value  to  this  festival  was,  not  the  young  people,  but 
the  middle  aged  gentlemen  and  ladies.  Among  the 
elderly  gentlemen  with  grey  hair  and  joyful  counte- 
nances who  stood  together  in  groups  or  sauntered 
pleasantly  among  the  ladies,  were  many  important 
faces,  with  delicate  features,  brisk,  animated,  and 
cheerful  demeanor.  Among  the  ladies  there  were  not 
a  few  who,  the  rest  of  the  year,  moved  noiselessly 


THE  PROFESSOR'S  BALL.  293 

about  the  studies  of  their  husbands  and  the  nursery, 
and  who  now  saw  themselves  displayed  in  unwonted 
gala-dress  under  the  bright  glare  of  lights,  and  were 
as  shy  and  bashful  as  they  had  been  long  ago  in  their 
maiden  days. 

There  was  upon  this  occasion,  at  the  beginning  of 
the  festive  meeting,  an  evident  excitement  in  certain 
individual  groups.  Werner's  tea-party  had  taken  for 
granted  that  Struvelius  would  not  come.  But  he  was 
there.  He  stood  wrapt  in  thought,  with  his  usual  ab- 
sent look,  not  far  from  the  entrance,  and  Use  and  her 
husband  had  to  pass  him.  When  Use  walked  through 
the  ball-room  on  the  Professor's  arm,  she  saw  that  the 
eyes  of  many  were  directed  curiously  toward  her,  and 
a  heightened  color  rose  in  her  cheeks.  The  Professor 
led  her  up  to  the  wife  of  his  colleague  Giinther,  who 
had  agreed  to  remain  with  her  that  evening,  and  Use 
was  glad  when  she  found  herself  established  on  one 
of  the.  raised  seats  next  to  the  vivacious  woman  ;  and 
at  first  she  only  ventured  to  look  shyly  about.  But  the 
splendor  of  the  hall,  the  many  fine  people  who  moved 
about  in  it,  and  then  the  first  sounds  of  the  overture, 
raised  her  spirits.  She  now  ventured  to  look  more 
about  her  and  search  out  her  acquaintances  and,  above 
all,  her  dear  husband.  She  saw  him  standing  not  far 
from  the  door  of  the  room,  in  the  midst  of  his  friends 
and  fellow-professors,  towering  head  and  shoulders 
above  them.  She  saw  not  far  from  the  other  door  his 
opponent,  Struvelius,  standing  with  his  little  retinue, 
chiefly  of  students.  Thus  stood  these  men,  in  every 
way  divided,  honorably  restraining  the  angry  feelings 
of  their  bosoms.  Many  of  her  husband's  acquaint- 
ances came  up  to  Use  ;  amongst  others  the  Doctor, 
who  teased  her  because  she  had  been  so  afraid  that 


294 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


they  would  not  find  each  other  in  the  confusion  of 
strange  people.  The  Mineralogist  also  came  and  de- 
clared his  intention  of  asking  her  to  dance.  But  Use, 
earnestly  entreating  him,  said  : 

"I  beg  of  you  not  to  do  it.  I  am  not  perfect  in 
these  new  city  dances,  and  you  would  not  get  on  well 
with  me  ;  I  had  rather  not  dance.  Besides,  it  is  not 
necessary,  for  I  am  in  a  very  gay  mood  and  it  amuses 
me  to  look  at  all  the  fine  people." 

Soon  various  strangers  approached  and  were  intro- 
duced to  her,  and  she  acquired  greater  ease  in  refus- 
ing to  dance. 

The  Historian  then  brought  his  daughter  up  to  her 
and  the  worthy  gentleman  at  last  placed  himself  near 
Use  and  talked  to  her  for  a  long  time  ;  she  felt  with 
pleasure  that  this  was  a  great  distinction.  Afterward 
she  ventured  to  move  some  steps  from  her  place  in 
order  to  ask  the  wife  of  Professor  Raschke  to  sit  by 
her.  Thus,  before  long,  a  charming  little  circle  of 
acquaintances  collected  about  her.  Pretty  Mrs.  Giin- 
ther  joked  pleasantly  and  gave  her  information  about 
the  strange  ladies  and  gentlemen.  The  wife  of  the 
Rector  also  came  up  and  said  she  must  sit  near  her, 
as  she  observed  that  all  were  so  merry  about  her.  And 
the  Rector's  wife  darted  glances  here  and  there  which 
attracted  one  gentleman  after  another  to  the  group; 
and  all  who  wished  to  show  their  respect  for  the  wife  of 
the  University  president  paid  their  compliments  also  to 
the  wife  of  the  colleague.  There  was  a  coming  and  going 
all  around  her  like  a  fair,  and  Use  and  the  Rector's  wife 
sat  there  like  two  twin  stars,  the  brilliancy  of  one  in- 
creasing that  of  the  other.  All  went  well  and  charm- 
ingly. Use  was  delighted  beyond  measure,  and  there 
certainly  was  more  shaking  of  hands  in  her  vicinity 


A 


[7 


THE  PROFESSOR'S  BALL.  295 

than  comports  with  the  etiquette  of  a  ball.  When 
Felix  approached  her  once  and  looked  inquiringly  at 
her,  she  pressed  the  tips  of  his  fingers  gently  and  gave 
him  such  a  happy  smile  that  he  needed  no  further  an- 
swer. 

During  a  pause  Use  looked  along  the  sides  of  the 
room  and  perceived  the  wife  of  Professor  Struvelius 
on  the  opposite  side.  She  wore  a  very  dark  dress  and 
her  Sappho  lock  hung  seriously  and  sadly  from  her 
fine  head.  The  wife  of  her  husband's  enemy  looked 
pale  and  her  eyes  were  quietly  cast  down.  There  was 
something  in  the  beauty  of  the  lady  that  moved  Use's 
heart  and  she  felt  as  if  she  must  go  •  over  to  her.  She 
revolved  in  her  mind  whether  Felix  would  think  it 
right  and  was  afraid  of  meeting  with  a  cold  rejection  ; 
but  at  last  she  took  heart  and  walked  right  across  the 
room  up  to  the  learned  lady. 

She  had  no  idea  of  the  effect  produced  by  this  step. 
Use  had  attracted  much  more  attention  and  had  been 
much  more  sharply  watched  than  she  knew,  and  those 
present  were  more  occupied  with  the  quarrel  between 
the  two  professors  than  she  imagined.  As  she  now 
went  with  firm  step  up  to  the  other  lady  and  stretched 
out  her  hand,  even  before  she  reached  her,  there  was 
a  remarkable  stillness  in  the  room  and  many  eyes  were 
directed  to  both  ladies.  The  wife  of  Struvelius  rose 
stiffly,  descended  one  step  from  her  seat,  and  looked 
so  freezing  that  Use  became  nervous  and  could  scarcely 
frame  her  lips  even  into  the  every-day  inquiry  after 
her  health. 

"  I  thank  you,"  replied  the  lady.  "I  do  not  enjoy 
noisy  gatherings.  It  is  perhaps  because  I  am  entirely 
deficient  in  all  the  necessary  qualifications,  for  people 
are  only  in  the  right  place  when,  they  have  an  op- 


296  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

portunity  of  making  their  talents  in  some  way  avail- 
able." 

"As  to  my  talents,  they  will  go  for  nothing,"  said 
Use,  shyly;  "but  everything  is  new  to  me  here,  and 
therefore  it  entertains  me  much  to  look  on,  and  I 
would  like  to  see  everything." 

"  It  is  quite  a  different  thing  with  you,"  replied  the 
other,  coldly. 

Fortunately  this  embarrassed  conversation  was 
soon  interrupted,  for  the  wife  of  the  Consistorial 
Councilor  popped  into  the  group  like  a  curious  mag- 
pie in  order  to  mediate  philanthropically  or  to  take 
part  in  this  startling  scene.  She  broke  into  the  con- 
versation and  talked  for  a  short  time  on  indifferent 
subjects. 

Use  returned  to  her  place  much  chilled  and  a  little 
discontented  with  herself.  She  had  no  reason  for  it. 
Little  Mrs.  Giinther  said  to  her  gently  : 

"That  was  right,  and  I  am  much  pleased  with 
you." 

Professor  Raschke  darted  up  to  her  and  did  not 
allude  to  it,  but  he  called  her  constantly  his  dear  col- 
league's wife.  He  asked  her  anxiously  whether  he  could 
not  bring  her  something  good — tea  or  lemonade.  He 
admiringly  took  the  finely  carved  fan  that  Laura  had 
pressed  upon  her  from  her  hand  and  placed  it  in  the 
breast-pocket  of  his  coat  for  safe  keeping.  Then  he 
began  to  amuse  her  by  telling  her  how,  as  a  student, 
to  please  his  wife,  he  had  taught  himself  to  dance  in 
his  own  little  room,  and  in  the  eagerness  of  the  nar- 
ration, he  began  to  show  Use  the  way  in  which  he  had 
privately  learnt  his  first  steps.  As  he  was  swinging 
round,  the  swan's-down  of  the  fan  projected  like  a  great 
feather  out  of  his  pocket,  and  a  new  dance  beginning 


THE  PROFESSOR'S  BALL.  297 

the   Professor  was  carried    off  through  the  whirling 
couples  with  Laura's  fan. 

It  was  only  a  few  steps  that  Use  had  taken  through 
the  hall ;  but  this  little  expression  of  independent  will 
had  gained  her  the  good  opinion  of  the  University ; 
for,  if  there  had  been  some  remarks  upon  her  country 
manners,  now,  on  the  other  hand,  men  and  women 
agreed  in  acknowledging  that  she  had  heart  and  char- 
acter. 

According  to  old  custom,  the  ball  was  here  inter- 
rupted by  a  general  repast.  Worthy  professors  had 
already  wandered  beforehand  into  the  neighboring 
room,  peering  at  the  laying  of  the  table,  and  had  care- 
fully placed  their  card  in  the  places  they  reserved  and 
arranged  with  the  waiters  about  the  wine.  At  last  the 
whole  company  gathered  about  the  table.  When  Use 
went  on  her  husband's  arm  to  her  place,  she  asked,  in 
a  low  tone  : 

"  Was  it  right  in  me  to  go  over  there  ?  " 
And  he  replied,  gravely  : 
"  It  was  not  wrong." 

With  this  she  was  for  the  present  obliged  to  be 
content. 

During  the  supper  the  Rector  proposed  the  first 
toast — "Our  Academical  Society" — and  the  assem- 
bled gentlemen  thought  his  slight  allusion  to  friendly 
concord  among  the  colleagues  touched  in  an  indelicate 
way  on  the  burning  question  of  the  day.  But  this  ef- 
fect passed  away  immediately  in  other  toasts,  and  Use 
remarked  that  the  supper  speeches  here  were  carried 
on  very  differently  to  those  in  the  Rollmaus  family. 
One  colleague  after  another  clinked  the  glass  ;  and 
how  elegantly  and  intellectually  they  knew  how  to 
portray  things  with  their  hands  behind  their  backs 


298  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

and  looking  coolly  around,  and  alluding,  in  fine  sen- 
tences, to  the  guests,  the  ladies  and  the  rest  of  man- 
kind. When  the  corks  of  the  champagne  popped,  the 
eloquence  became  overpowering,  and  two  professors 
even  clinked  their  glasses  at  the  same  time.  Then  the 
Professor  of  History  arose ;  all  became  still.  He 
greeted  the  new  members  of  the  University — women  as 
well  as  men — and  Use  saw  that  this  applied  to  herself 
and  looked  down  on  her  plate.  But  she  grew  alarmed 
when  she  found  that  he  became  more  personal,  and 
at  last  her  own  name  as  well  as  that  of  the  wife  of  the 
Mineralogist,  who  was  sitting  by  Felix,  sounded 
through  the  room.  The  glasses  resounded,  a  flourish 
of  trumpets  was  blown,  many  colleagues  and  some  of 
the  ladies  arose  and  proceeded  with  their  glasses  to- 
ward them.  A  little  procession  took  place  behind  the 
chairs,  and  Use  and  the  Mineralogist's  wife  had  to 
clink  their  glasses  incessantly,  to  bow  and  return 
thanks.  When  Use  rose  blushingly  for  this  purpose, 
her  eyes  glanced  involuntarily  to  the  next  table,  where 
the  wife  of  Struvelius  was  sitting  opposite,  and  she 
observed  that  the  latter  half  moved  her  hand  toward 
her  glass,  then  quickly  drew  it  back,  and  looked 
gloomily  down. 

The  company  rose,  and  now  the  hilarity  began  in 
good  earnest,  for  the  Professors  became  lively,  and 
called  to  mind  their  old  agility.  There  was  a  changed 
aspect  in  the  room,  for  soon  even  respectable,  middle- 
aged  gentlemen  waltzed  with  their  own  wives.  Oh  ! 
it  was  a  cheering  and  touching  spectacle  to  Use.  Many 
an  old  dress-coat  and  clumsy  boot  moved  to  the 
measure  ;  and  many  of  the  gentlemen  danced  with  va- 
rious slidings  of  the  feet,  and  bold  movements  of  the 
knees,  determined  to  recall  the  style  of  their  youthful 


THE  PROFESSOR'S  BALL. 


299 


days,  and  with  the  feeling  that  they  still  understood 
the  art.  Some  of  the  ladies  clung  shyly  to  the  arms 
of  the  dancers,  some  were  ungraceful  in  their  move- 
ments, others  showed  how  well  they  were  able  to  gov- 
ern at  home, — for,  when  their  husbands  were  not  suffi- 
ciently practiced  in  the  art,  they  knew  how  to  carry 
them  round  the  circle  with  vigorous  swings.  The 
Rector  danced  very  neatly  with  his  chubby  wife,  and 
Raschke  danced  with  his  wife,  and  looked  triumphantly 
toward  Use.  The  noisy  merriment  increased  ;  all  Use's 
neighbors  were  carried  away  by  the  excitement,  and 
commenced  waltzing.  And  Use  stood  looking  on  not 
far  from  a  pillar.  Somebody  came  behind  and  touched 
her ;  there  was  a  rustling  of  a  silk  dress,  and  the  wife 
of  Struvelius  approached  her. 

Use  looked  startled  at  the  large  grey  eyes  of  her 
Opponent,  who  began  slowly : 

"I  take  you  to  be  a  noble-minded  woman,  quite  in-' 
capable  of  any  mean  feeling,  and  this  is  why  I  have 
now  come  to  speak  to  you." 

Use  bowed  slightly,  in  order  to  express  her  thanks 
for  the  unexpected  declaration. 

"I  go  about,"  continued  Mrs.  Struvelius,  in  her 
measured  way,  "as  if  a  curse  were  on  me.  What  I 
have  suffered  the  last  few  weeks  is  unutterable  ;  this 
evening  I  feel  like  an  outcast  in  this  joyous  gathering." 
Her  hand  trembled,  but  she  continued  in  a  monoto- 
nous tone  :  "  My  husband  is  innocent,  and  is  convinced 
that  he  is  right  in  the  main.  It  is  fitting  for  me,  as 
his  wife,  to  share  his  views  and  his  fate  ;  but  I  see  him 
inwardly  disturbed  by  an  unfortunate  entanglement, 
and  I  perceive  with  dismay  that  he  may  lose  the  good 
opinion  of  his  most  intimate  friends,  if  he  should  not 
succeed  in  dispelling  the  suspicions  which  gather 


300  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

about  his  head.  Help  me!"  she  cried,  with  a  sudden 
outburst,  wringing  her  hands,  while  two  big  tears 
rolled  down  her  cheeks. 

"How  can  I  do  that?"  asked  Use. 

"There  is  a  secret  in  the  affair,"  continued  Mrs. 
Struvelius  :  "my  husband  was  incautious  enough  to 
promise  unconditional  silence,  and  his  word  is  sacred 
to  him  ;  he  is  a  child  in  matters  of  business,  and  is 
quite  at  a  loss  what  to  do  in  the  matter.  What  may 
be  necessary  to  justify  him  must  be  sought  without 
his  knowledge  or  co-operation.  I  beg  of  you  not  to 
refuse  your  assistance." 

"I  can  do  nothing  that  my  husband  would  disap- 
prove of,  and  I  have  never  kept  a  secret  from  him," 
replied  Use,  seriously. 

"I  desire  nothing  that  the  strictest  judgment  could 
condemn,"  continued  the  other.  "Your  husband  will 
be  the  first  to  know  whatever  I  may  be  able  to  ascer- 
tain, and  therefore  I  apply  to  you.  Ah.!  not  only  on 
that  account  ;  I  know  no  one  whom  I  can  trust.  What 
I  now  tell  you  I  have  not  learnt  from  my  husband  :  he 
received  the  unfortunate  parchment  from  Magister 
Knips,  and  he  returned  it  to  him." 

"  Is  that  the  little  Magister  in  our  street  ?"  inquired 
Use. 

"The  same.  I  must  persuade  him  to  produce  the 
parchment  again,  or  to  tell  me  where  it  is  to  be  found. 
But  this  is  not  the  place  to  discuss  this  matter,"  she 
exclaimed,  as  the  music  ceased.  "Situated  as  our 
husbands  now  are,  I  cannot  visit  you  ;  it  would  be  too 
painful  for  me,  should  I  meet  your  husband,  to  feel 
his  altered  demeanor  ;  but  I  wish  for  your  advice,  and 
beg  of  you  to  allow  me  to  meet  you  at  some  other 
place." 


A 


THE  PROFESSOR'S  BALL.  361 

"If  Magister  Knips  is  concerned  in  the  matter," 
replied  Use,  with  hesitation,  "I  would  propose  to  you 
to  come  to  the  room  of  our  landlord's  daughter,  Laura 
Hummel.  We  shall  be  undisturbed  in  her  room,  and 
she  knows  more  of  the  Magister  and  his  family  than 
we  do.  But  I  fear  we  poor  women  can  hardly  accom- 
plish much  alone." 

"I  am  determined  to  risk  everything,  in  order  to 
free  my  husband  from  the  unworthy  suspicion  which 
threatens'  to  be  cast  upon  him.  Prove  yourself  to  be 
what  you  appear  to  me,  and  I  will  thank  you  on  my 
knees." 

She  moved  her  hand  convulsively,  and  then  looked 
about  her  with  an  air  of  indifference. 

"•We  shall  meet  to-morrow,"  replied  Use  ;  "  so  far, 
at  least,  I  can  agree  to  your  wishes." 

They  then  settled  the  hour. 

Thus  the  ladies  separated.  From  behind  the  pillar 
Mrs.  Struvelius  once  more  gazed  imploringly  at  Use 
with  her  large  eyes  ;  then  both  were  lost  in  the  throng 
of  the  departing  ball-guests. 

After  her  return  home,  Use  long  continued  to  hear 
in  her  dreams  the  music  of  the  dance,  and  saw  strange 
men  and  women  come  to  her  bedside,  and  she  laughed 
and  wondered  at  the  queer  people  who  chose  to  visit 
her  now  as  she  was  lying  in  bed  without  her  beautiful 
dress  and  fan.  But  in  the  midst  of  these  pleasant 
musings  she  felt  a  secret  anxiety  as  to  what  her  Felix 
would  say  of  all  these  visitors ;  and  when  she  gently 
sighed  over  this  anxiety,  the  dream  floated  back  to- 
wards the  ivory  portals  from  whence  it  had  come. 
She  sank  into  a  sound  sleep. 

The  following  morning  Use  went  up  to  Laura  and 
confided  to  her  the  events  of  the  previous  evening,  and 


302  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

the  request  of  Mrs.  Struvelius.  The  secret  meeting 
with  the  Professor's  wife  quite  pleased  Laura.  She 
had  for  some  time  past  more  than  once  heard  about 
the  mysterious  parchment  at  the  tea-table.  She  thought 
the  determination  of  Mrs.  Struvelius  very  courageous, 
and  spoke  with  contempt  of  anything  that  Magister 
Knips  could  contrive. 

Just  as  the  clock  struck,  Mrs.  Struvelius  entered. 
She  looked  much  oppressed,  and  one  could  perceive 
anxious  excitement  even  through  her  immovable  feat- 
ures. 

Use  shortened  the  unavoidable  introductory  com- 
pliments and  excuses  by  beginning  : 

"I  have  told  Miss  Laura  of  your  desire  to  obtain 
the  parchment,  and  she  is  ready  to  send  over  directly 
for  Magister  Knips." 

"That  is  far  more  than  I  had  ventured  to  hope," 
said  Mrs.  Struvelius.  "I  had  intended  with  your 
kind  assistance  to  look  him  up  myself." 

"He  shall  come  here,"  said  Laura,  decidedly, 
"and  he  shall  answer  for  himself.  I  have  always 
found  him  unendurable,  although  I  have  frequently 
bought  pretty  pictures  of  him.  His  humility  is  such 
as  does  not  become  a  man,  and  I  consider  him  a  sneak 
at  heart." 

The  cook  Susan  was  called,  and  despatched  by 
Laura  as  a  herald  to  the  fortress  of  Knips. 

•  "You  are,  under  no  consideration,  to  tell  him  that 
any  one  is  with  me ;  and  when  he  comes,  bring  him  up 
directly." 

Susan  returned  with  a  sly  look,  and  brought  the 
Magister's  compliments:  "he  desired  her  to  say  he 
would  have  the  honor  of  waiting  upon  her  imme- 
diately. He  seemed  astonished,  but  pleased." 


THE  PROFESSOR'S  BALL. 


303 


"He  shall  be  astonished,"  exclaimed  Laura. 

The  allied  ladies  sat  down  around  the  sofa-table, 
feeling  the  importance  of  the  task  which  was  before 
them. 

"When  I  am  talking  with  him,"  began  Mrs.  Stru- 
velius,  solemnly,  "have  the  kindness  to  attend  accur- 
ately to  his  answers,  that  you  may  in  case  of  necessity 
repeat  them,  and  thus  be  my  supporters  and  wit- 
nesses." 

"I  can  write  quickly,"  exclaimed  Laura,  "I  will 
write  down  what  he  answers,  then  he  cannot  deny  it." 

"That  would  be  too  much  like  a  trial,"  interposed 
Use,  "and  will  only  make  him  suspicious." 

The  furious  bark  of  a  dog  was  heard  outside. 

"He  is  coming,"  said  Mrs.  Struvelius,  drawing  her- 
self up  with  dignity! 

A  loud  step  was  heard  on  the  stairs,  Susan  opened 
the  door,  and  Magister  Knips  entered.  He  did  not 
look  dangerous.  He  was  a  short,  crooked  man;  it 
was  doubtful  whether  he  was  young  or  old.  He  had 
a  pale  face,  prominent  cheek-bones,  on  which  were 
two  red  spots,  screwed  up  eyes  such  as  short-sighted 
people  generally  have,  and  red  from  much  night-work 
by  dull  lamps.  He  stood  there,  in  a  threadbare  coat, 
with  his  head  bent  on  one  side,  a  humble  servant,  per- 
haps a  victim  of  learning.  When  he  saw  the  three 
ladies  sitting,  all  stern  and  solemn,  where  his  heart 
had  only  hoped  to'find  one,  and  among  them  the  wives 
of  important  men,  he  stopped  confounded  at  the  door  ; 
he  composed  himself,  however,  and  made  three  low 
bows,  probably  one  to  each  lady,  but  refrained  from 
speaking. 

"Sit  down,  Magister,"  began  Laura,  condescend- 
ingly, pointing  to  an  empty  chair  opposite  the  sofa. 


3°4 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


The  Magister  approached  hesitatingly,  pushed  the 
chair  further  out  of  reach  of  the  three  goddesses  of 
fate,  and  with  another  bow  seated  himself  on  the  cor- 
ner of  the  chair. 

*'  It  must  be  known  to  you,  Magister,"  began  Mrs. 
Struvelius,  "that  the  last  publication  of  my  husband 
has  occasioned  discussions  which  have  been  painful  to 
all  engaged  in  them,  and  I  assume  also  to  you." 

Knips  made  a  piteous  face,  and  dropped  his  head 
entirely  on  one  shoulder. 

"I  now  appeal  to  the  interest  which  you  take  in 
the  studies  of  my  husband,  and  I  appeal  to  your  heart, 
when  I  beseech  you  to  give  me  frankly  and  straight- 
forwardly the  information  which  must  be  desirable  to 
us  all." 

She  stopped.  Knips,  with  bent  head,  looked  askance 
at  her,  and  also  remained  silent. 

"I  beg  for  an  answer,"  said  Mrs.  Struvelius,  em- 
phatically. 

"With  all  my  heart,"  began  Knips  at  last,  in  a 
piping  voice.  "But  I  do  not  know  what  I 'have  to 
answer  to." 

"  My  husband  received  from  you  the  parchment 
which  was  the  subject  of  his  last  treatise." 

"Did  the  Professor  tell  you  that?"  asked  Knips, 
still  more  piteously. 

"No,"  answered  Mrs.  Struvelius;  "but  I  heard 
you  come,  and  I  also  heard  that  he  promised  to  be 
silent  about  something,  and  when  I  entered  his  room 
later  I  saw  the  parchment  lying  on  his  table,  and  when 
I  enquired  about  it,  he  said,  'That  is  a  secret.'" 

The  Magister  looked  roimd  about  uneasily,  and  at 
last  cast  his  eyes  down  on  his  knees,  where  his  trousers 
were  unusually  threadbare  and  smooth  from  wear. 


THE  PROFESSOR'S  BALL.  305 

"If  the  Professor  himself  considers  that  the  affair 
is  a  secret,  it  is  not  for  me  to  speak  of  it,  even  if  I  did 
know  anything  about  it." 

"Then  you  refuse  to  give  us  the  information?" 

"Ah,  my  dear  lady,  there  is  no  one  to  whom  I 
would  rather  make  a  communication  than  to  the  ex- 
cellent ladies  whom  I  have  the  honor  of  seeing  here, 
but  I  am  much  too  insignificant  to  be  able  to  serve 
you  in  this." 

"And  have  you  taken  into  consideration  the  em- 
barrassing consequences  of  your  refusal,  for  my  hus- 
band, for  the  whole  University,  and — what  you,  an 
advocate  of  truth,  must  consider  more  important  than 
all— for  science?"' 

Knips  acknowledged  himself  to  be  the  advocate  of 
truth. 

Laura  remarked  that  the  examination  was  wander- 
ing into  by-paths  on  which  the  parchment  was  not  to 
be  found  ;  she  jumped  up,  and  cried  out : 

"Go  out  of  the  room  for  a  little  while,  Magister 
Knips,  I  wish  to  confer  with  the  Professor's  wife." 

Knips  rose  very  readily  and  made  a  bow. 

"But  you  must  not  go  away.  Go  into  the  next 
room.  Come,  I  shall  call  you  in  again  directly." 

Knips  followed  her  with  bowed  head,  and  Laura 
came  back  on  tiptoes  and  said,  in  a  low  tone: 

"I  have  locked  him  in,  that  he  may  not  escape." 

The  ladies  put  their  heads  together  in  close  con- 
sultation. 

"You  deal  too  tenderly  with  him,  Mrs.  Struvelius," 
whispered  Laura.  "Offer  him  money.  That  will 
allure  him.  It  is  hard  for  me  to  say  so,  but  I  know 
the  Knips  family — they  are  selfish." 

"I  also  have  thought  of  that,  for  an  extreme  case," 


306 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


replied  Mrs.  Struvelius,  "only  I  did  not  wish  to  hurt 
him  by  such  an  offer,  if  there  were  any  manly  feeling 
in  him." 

"Pshaw  !"  exclaimed  Laura,  "he  is  not  a  man,  he 
is  only  a  coward.  If  at  first  he  refuses,  offer  him  more. 
Here  is  my  pocket-book  ;  I  beg  of  you  to  take  it." 

She  ran  to  her  writing-table  and  fetched  out  the  em- 
broidered purse. 

"I  thank  you  from  my  heart,"  whispered  Mrs. 
Struvelius,  taking  out  her  purse  from  her  pocket.  "If 
there  is  only  sufficient,"  she  said,  anxiously  drawing 
the  strings.  "Let  us  see  quickly  how  much  we  have. " 

"God  forbid!"  cried  Laura,  hastily.  "It  is  full 
of  gold." 

"  I  have  turned  every  thing  that  I  could  into  money," 
replied  Mrs.  Struvelius  hurriedly;  "everything  else 
is  of  little  value." 

Use  took  the  purses  out  of  the  hands  of  both  ladies 
and  said  firmly  : 

"  That  is  far  too  much.  We  ought  not  to  offer  him 
such  sums ;  we  do  not  know  whether  we  should  not  thus 
be  exposing  the  poor  man  to  the  temptation  of  doing 
wrong.  If  we  offer  him  money  we  embark  in  a  trans- 
action which  we  do  not  thoroughly  understand." 

The  others  disputed  this,  and  there  was  much 
whispered  consultation.  At  last  Laura  decided  : 

"  He  shall  have  two  pieces  of  gold,  that  is  settled." 

Laura  hastened  out  to  bring  back  the  prisoner. 

When  the  Magister  entered,  Mrs.  Struvelius  looked 
so  imploringly  at  Use,  that  the  latter  made  up  her  mind 
to  carry  on  the  negotiation. 

"Magister,  we  have  set  our  hearts  upon  having 
this  bit  of  manuscript  with  which  the  professors  have 


THE  PROFESSOR'S  BALL. 


307 


been  so  much  occupied,  and  as  you  know  about  it,  we 
request  your  help  to  obtain  it." 

A  submissive  smile  played  over  the  lips  of  Magister 
Knips. 

"We  wish  to  buy  it,"  interposed  Mrs.  Struvelius; 
"and  we  beg  of  you  to  undertake  the  purchase.  You 
shall  have  the  money  necessary  for  it." 

Forgetting  her  agreement  in  their'intense  anxiety, 
she  put  her  hand  into  her  purse  and  counted  onelouis 
d'or  after  another  on  the  table,  till  Laura  sprang  up, 
terrified,  and  tugged  at  her  shawl  from  behind. 

Knips  again  laid  his  head  on  his  shoulder,  and 
fixed  his  eyes  upon  the  small  fingers  of  the  Professor's 
wife,  from  which  fell  one  gold  piece  after  another. 

''This,  and  still  more,  shall  be  yours,"  cried  Mrs. 
Struvelius,  "  if  you  will  procure  me  the  parchment.  " 

The  Magister  fumbled  in  his  pocket  for  his  hand- 
kerchief, and  wiped  his  forehead. 

"It  must  be  well  known  to  the  ladies,"  he  said, 
plaintively,  "that  I  have  to  read  many  proof-sheets, 
and  to  work  late  into  the  night  before  I  can  earn  the 
tenth  portion  of  what  you  lay  before  me.  It  is  a  great 
temptation  to  me  ;  but  I  do  not  believe  that  I  can  ob- 
tain the  strip  of  parchment  ;  and  if  I  should  succeed 
I  fear  it  will  only  be  upon  condition  that  it  shall  not 
get  into  the  hands  of  any  of  the  professors,  but  be  de- 
stroyed here  in  your  presence. 

"Go  out  again,  Magister  Knips,"  cried  Laura, 
springing  up,  "  and  leave  your  hat  here  that  you  may 
not  escape  us." 

The  Magister  disappeared  for  the  second  time. 
Again  the  women  put  their  heads  together. 

"He  has  the  parchment,  and  he  can  produce  it; 
we  know  that  now,"  exclaimed  Laura. 


308  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"We  cannot  agree  to  his  offer,"  said  Use.  "  It  is 
not  right  for  us  to  take  possession  of  the  parchment ; 
it  must  be  examined  by  our  husbands,  and  then  re- 
turned to  the  Magister." 

"  I  beg  of  you  to  take  away  all  this  money,"  cried 
Laura,  "and  permit  me  now  to  adopt  another  tone 
with  him,  for  my  patience  is  at  an  end."  She  opened 
the  door  :  "Come  in,  Magister  Knips.  Listen  atten- 
tively to  me.  You  have  refused,  and  the  money  has 
disappeared,  all  but  two  pieces,  which  may  still  be 
yours  ;  but  only  on  the  condition  that  you  procure  for 
us  at  once  what  Mrs.  Struvelius  has  begged  of  you. 
For  we  have  clearly  seen  that  you  possess  the  strip, 
and  if  you  still  refuse  we  shall  have  cause  to  suspect 
that  you  have  acted  dishonorably  in  the  matter." 

Knips  looked  terrified,  and  raised  his  hands  im- 
ploringly. 

"I  shall  go  directly,"  continued  Laura,  "to  your 
mother,  and  tell  her  that  there  is  an  end  to  all  connec- 
tion between  her  and  our  house  ;  and  I  shall  go  over 
to  Mr.  Hahn,  and  tell  him  of  your  conduct,  that  he 
may  set  your  brother  at  you.  Your  brother  is  in  busi- 
ness, and  knows  what  is  upright ;  and  if  he  does  not 
see  it  in  that  light,  Mr.  Hahn  will,  and  that  would  not 
be  to  the  advantage  of  your  brother.  Finally,  I  tell 
you  further,  I  will  at  once  send  over  for  Fritz  Hahn 
and  tell,  him  everything,  and  then  he  shall  deal  with 
you.  Fritz  Hahn  will  get  the  better  of  you,  you  know, 
and  so  do  I,  for  he  always  did  when  we  were  children. 
I  know  ydu,  Magister.  We,  in  our  street,  are  not  the 
sort  of  people  to  allow  ourselves  to  be  hoodwinked, 
and  we  value  good  conduct  in  the  neighborhood. 
Therefore,  procure  the  parchment,  or  you  shall  know 
Laura  Hummel." 


THE  PROFESSOR'S  BALL. 


309 


Thus  spoke  Laura  with  flaming  eyes,  and  clench- 
ing her  little  hand  at  the  Magister.  Use  looked  with 
astonishment  at  her  determined  friend. 

If  a  discourse  is  to  be  judged  by  its  effect,  Laura's 
speech  was  a  pattern,  for  it  worked  most  disturbingly 
on  the  Magister.  He  had  grown  up  among  the  peo- 
ple and  customs  of  that  little  street,  and  could  well 
appreciate  the  consequences  which  Laura's  hostility 
would  exercise  on  the  needy  circumstances  of  his 
private  life.  He,  therefore,  struggled  for  a  time  for 
words,  and  at  last  began,  in  a  low  voice  : 

"As  even  Miss  Laura  suspects  me,  I  am  undoubt- 
edly compelled  to  tell  how  the  affair  stands.  I  know 
an  old  traveling  pedlar  who  carries  about  with  him 
various  antiquities — wood-cuts,  miniatures,  and  also 
fragments  of  old  manuscripts,  and  anything  of  the 
kind  that  comes  in  his  way.  I  have  frequently  ob- 
tained him  customers,  and  given  him  information  upon 
the  value  of  rare  things.  This  man,  during  his  stay 
here,  showed  me  a  collection  of  old  parchment  leaves, 
concerning  which  he  was  already,  he  said,  in  negotia- 
tion with  a  foreigner.  Attention  being  drawn  to  the 
double  writing  on  the  leaves,  the  strip  appeared  note- 
worthy to  him,  and  to  me  also.  I  read  some  of  it,  as 
far  as  could  be  made  out  through  the  paste  that  lay 
upon  it ;  and  begged  him  at  least  to  lend  me  the  parch- 
ment that  I  might  show  it  to  our  scholars.  I  carried 
it  to  Professor  Struvelius,  and  as  he  judged  that  it 
might  perhaps  be  worth  the  trouble  of  examining,  I 
went  again  to  the  dealer.  He  told  me  he  would  not 
sell  the  strip  outright,  but  he  should  like  something 
to  be  written  concerning  it,  as  that  would  increase  its 
value  ;  and  he  delivered  it  into  my  hands  till  his  re- 
turn. This  week  he  came  again  to  take  it  away  with 


310  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

him.  I  do  not  know  whether  it*  is  still  to  be  had,  or 
whether  he  will  take  this  money  for  it.  I  fear  not." 

The  ladies  looked  at  each  other. 

"  You  all  hear  this  statement,"  began  Mrs.  Struve- 
lius.  "But  why,  Magister,  did  you  beg  my  husband 
to  tell  no  one  that  the  parchment  came  from  you  ?  " 

The  Magister  turned  on  his  chair  and  again  looked 
at  his  knees  embarrassed. 

"Ah,  the  lady  will  not  be  angry  if  I  speak  out. 
Professor  Werner  had  always  been  very  friendly  to 
me,  and  I  feared  that  he  might  take  it  amiss  if  I  did 
not  first  show  him  such  a  discovery.  But  Professor 
Struvelius  had  also  a  claim  to  my  gratitude,  for  he  had 
graciously  intrusted  to  me  the  proof-sheets  and  table 
of  contents  of  the  new  edition  of  his  great  work.  I 
was,  therefore,  in  fear  of  offending  two  valuable  pa- 
trons." 

This  was  unfortunate,  certainty,  and  not  improb- 
able. 

"  Oh  !  do  contrive  that  your  husband  may  hear 
him,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Struvelius. 

"We  hope,  Magister,  that  you  will  repeat  your 
words  before  others  who  can  understand  the  import  of 
them  better  than  we  do,"  said  Use. 

The  Magister  expressed  his  willingness  timidly. 

"But  you  must,  nevertheless,  procure  the  parch- 
ment," interposed  Laura. 

Knips  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  If  it  is  possible," 
he  said;  "but  I  don't  know  whether  the  man  will 
give  it  up  for  this  sum." 

Mrs.  Struvelius  was  again  putting  her  hand  into 
her  pocket ;  but  Use  held  it  back,  and  Laura  cried 
out  : 

"  We  will  give  no  more." 


THE  PROFESSOR'S  BALL. 


311 


"Nevertheless,"  continued  the  Magister,  impelled 
by  the  determination  of  his  judges,  "  as  doubts  have 
been  raised  of  its  genuineness,  the  parchment  may  have 
lost  some  of  its  value  for  the  dealer.  But  if  I  should 
succeed  in  being  of  service  to  you,  I  respectfully  en- 
treat you  not  to  bear  any  malice  against  me  for  the 
unfortunate  share  which,  without  any  fault  on  my 
part,  I  have  had  in  this  sad  business.  It  has  grieved 
me  much  the  whole  time  ;  and  since  the  criticism  of 
Professor  Werner  has  been  printed,  I  have  daily  la- 
mented that  I  ever  set  eyes  on  the  parchment.  I 
should  sink  into  an  abyss  of  misery  if  I  were  to  lose 
my  respected  patrons." 

These  words  excited  the  compassion  of  his  judges, 
and  Mrs.  Struvelius  said,  kindly  : 

"We  believe  you,  for  it  is  a  dreadful  feeling  to 
have  deceived  others,  even  unintentionally." 

But  Laura,  who  had  established  herself  as  president 
of  the  council,  decided  shortly  : 

"I  beg  that  all  who  have  taken  part  in  this  will 
meet  here  to-morrow  at  the  same  hour.  I  give  you  to 
that  time,  Magister  Knips,  to  procure  the  parchment. 
After  the  expiration  of  this  respite  our  house  will  be 
closed  to  you,  our  washing  withdrawn,  and  notice 
given  to  the  Hahn  family.  See,  therefore,  that  we 
come  to  an  amicable  settlement." 

The  Magister  approached  the  table,  drew  with 
one  finger  the  gold  pieces  into  the  palm  of  his  hand, 
which  he  modestly  held  under  the  edge  of  the  table, 
made  three  low  bows,  and  took  leave  of  the  ladies. 

Use  related  the  adventure  to  her  husband,  and 
Felix  listened  with  astonishment  at  the  role  which  the 
learned  factotum  had  played  in  the  tragedy. 

On  the  following  morning  the  Magister  made  his 


312  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

appearance  before  the  Professor.  Breathless  he  drew 
out  of  his  pocket  the  unfortunate  strip  of  parchment, 
and  carried  it  with  bowed  head  and  outstretched 
hand,  bending  lower  and  lower,  humbly  and  implor- 
ingly, from  the  door  to  the  writing-table  of  the  Pro- 
fessor. 

"I  venture  to  bring  this  to  you,  rather  than  en- 
counter the  ladies  for  a  second  time.  Perhaps  you 
will  graciously  deign  to  deliver  this  through  your  wife 
into  the  hands  of  its  new  possessor." 

When  the  Professor  examined  him  severely,  he 
began  a  statement  in  defence  of  himself.  What  he 
said  was  not  improbable.  The  name  of  the  doubtful 
trader  was  known  to  the  Professor.  He  was  aware 
that  he  had  been  staying  in  the  town  during  the  course 
of  the  last  few  weeks,  and  from  the  numerous  com- 
munications that  Knips  had  had  with  this  man  in  the 
interest  of  his  patrons,  there  was  nothing  extraordi- 
nary in  their  intimacy.  The  Professor  examined  the 
parchment  carefully.  If  there  had  been  a  forgery  here, 
it  had  been  carried  out  in  a  masterly  way ;  but  Knips 
produced  a  microscope  from  his  waistcoat  pocket, 
and  pointed  out  how,  by  means  of  the  magnifying 
glass,  one  could  discover  that  sometimes  the  shadowy 
characters  of  the  apparently  very  ancient  handwriting 
had  been  introduced  over  the  words  of  the  church  pray- 
ers, and  had  therefore  been  painted  on  at  a  later  period. 

"Your  strictures  in  the  Classical  Gazette  drew  my 
attention  to  this,  and  early  this  morning,  when  I .  ob- 
tained the  parchment,  I  carefully  examined  what  had 
been  rendered  indistinct  by  the  paste.  So  far  as  I  may 
be  permitted  to  have  a  judgment  in  such  things,  I 
now  venture  to  share  your  opinion  that  a  forgery  has 
been  perpetrated  on  this  strip." 


[r 


THE  PROFESSOR'S  BALL. 


313 


The  Professor  threw  it  aside. 

"I  regret  that  you  have  ever  had  anything  to  do 
with  it,  even  though  unintentionally  ;  you  have  done 
a  mischief,  the  painful  effects  of  which  you  cannot  fail 
to  see.  I  am  sorry  for  it  on  your  own  account.  This 
unfortunate  occurrence  will  throw  a  shadow  over  your 
life  ;  and  I  would  give  much  to  be  able  to  wipe  it 
away.  For  we  have  known  one  another  through  much 
mutual  work,  Magister,  and  I  have  always  felt  a  sym- 
pathy in  your  self-sacrificing  activity  in  favor  of  others. 
In  spite  of  your  book-chaffering,  which  I  do  not  ap- 
prove of,  and  in  spite  of  your  waste  of  time  in  labors 
which  might  be  done  by  less  efficient  persons,  I  have 
always  considered  you  as  a  man  whose  extraordinary 
knowledge  inspires  respect." 

The  humble  Magister  raised  his  head,  and  a  smile 
passed  over  his  face. 

"I  have  always,  Professor,  considered  you  as  the 
only  one  among  my  distinguished  patrons,  who  has 
the  right  to  tell  me  that  I  have  learned  too  little  ;  you 
are  also,  Professor,  the  one  to  whom  I  venture  to  con- 
fess that  I  have  secretly  never  ceased  to  esteem  my- 
self as  a  man  of  learning.  I  hope  that  you  will  not 
deny  me  the  testimony  that  I  have  always  been  a 
trustworthy  and  faithful  laborer  in  that  cause." 

He  fell  back  into  his  humble  attitude,  as  he  con- 
tinued : 

"  What  has  happened  will  be  a  lesson  for  me  in 
future." 

"  I  demand  more  of  you.  First,  you  must  take  the 
trouble  of  ascertaining  through  your  acquaintance  the 
hidden  source  from  which  this  forgery  has  emanated, 
for  it  can  scarcely  be  the  accidental  idea  of  an  un- 
scrupulous man  ;  it  is  rather  the  work  of  an  ill-  directed 


314  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

industry,  which  in  time  will  produce  more  evil. 
Further,  it  is  your  duty  at  once  to  deliver  the  parch- 
ment to  Professor  Struvelius,  and  impart  to  him  your 
discovery.  You  yourself  will  do  well  to  be  more  cau- 
tious in  future  in  the  choice  of  the  traders  with  whom 
you  deal." 

In  these  views  Knips  fully  acquiesced  and  de- 
parted, whilst  he  imploringly  besought  the  kind  con- 
sideration of  the  Professor  for  the  future. 

"He  has,  I  am  certain,  to  some  extent  been  con- 
cerned in  the  knavery,"  exclaimed  the  Doctor. 

"No,"  rejoined  the  Professor.  "His  fault  has 
been,  that  up  to  the  last  moment  he  cared  more  for 
his  bargain  than  for  the  discovery  of  the  truth." 

In  the  afternoon  Mrs.  Struvelius  said  to  Use  : 

"What  we  have  succeeded  in  obtaining  has  been 
very  painful  to  my  husband.  For  it  has  convinced 
him  that  he  was  deceived,  while  others  discovered  the 
true  state  of  the  case.  It  is  a  cruel  grief  to  a  wife 
when  she  is  the  instrument  of  bringing  about  such 
humiliation  to  him  she  loves  best.  This  sorrow  I 
shall  long  continue  to  feel.  Besides  this,  our  husbands 
are  so  estranged  from  one  another,  that  a  long  time 
will  elapse,  before  their  wounded  feelings  will  admit 
of  a  reconciliation,  or  allow  them  to  cherish  for  each 
other  the  respect  which  as  colleagues  they  mutually 
owe.  I  hope,  however,  that  the  relations  between 
you  and  me  will  not  suffer.  I  have  discovered  the 
worth  of  your  heart,  and  I  beg  of  you — in  spite  of 
my  unprepossessing  manner,  of  which  I  am  well  aware 
— to  accept  the  friendship  which  I  feel  for  you." 

As  she  walked  slowly  towards  the  door  in  her  black 
dress,  Use  looked  after  her  with  a  feeling  of  surprise, 
that  the  first  impression  made  upon  her  by  the  learned 


THE  PROFESSOR'S  BALL. 


3*5 


lady  should  have  been  so  quickly  obliterated  by  other 
feelings. 

In  the  next  number  of  the  Classical  Gazette  there 
appeared  a  short  explanation  by  Professor  Struvelius, 
in  which  he  honorably  acknowledged  that  he  had  been 
deceived,  by  undoubtedly  a  very  expert  deception,  arid 
that  he  must  be  grateful  to  the  acuteness  and  friendly 
activity  of  his  honored  colleague  who  had  contributed 
to  the  clearing  up  of  the  matter. 

"This  explanation  has  been  written  by  his  wife," 
said  the  obdurate  Doctor. 

"We  may  hope  that  the  disagreeable  affair  has 
come  to  an  end  for  all  concerned  in  it,"  concluded  the 
Professor  with  a  light  heart. 

But  the  hopes  even  of  a  great  scholar  are  not  al- 
ways fulfilled.  This  quarrel  of  the  scepter- bearing 
princes  of  the  University  had  not  only  introduced  Use 
into  a  new  position, but  had  brought  another  into  notice. 

On  the  evening  of  the  decisive  day  that  revealed 
the  worthlessness  of  the  parchment,  Magister  Knips 
sat  shivering  upon  the  floor  in  an  unwarmed  room  of 
his  poverty-stricken  dwelling.  Books  lay  in  disorderly 
heaps  on  the  shelves  by  the  wall  and  on  the  floor,  and 
he  sat  surrounded  by  them,  like  an  ant-lion  in  his  den. 
He  shoved  into  a  dark  corner  an  old  cigar  chest  of  his 
brother's,  which  was  filled  with  many  small  bottles 
and  paint-pots,  and  laid  the  old  books  upon  it.  Then 
he  placed  the  lamp  on  a  stool  near  him,  and  with  se- 
cret satisfaction  took  up  one  old  book  after  another, 
examined  the  binding,  read  the  title  and  last  page, 
stroked  it  caressingly  with  his  hand,  and  then  again 
laid  it  on  the  heap.  At  last  he  seized  an  old  Italian 
edition  of  a  Greek  author  with  both  hands,  moved 
nearer  to  the  lamp,  and  examined  it  leaf  by  leaf. 


316  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

His  mother  called  through  the  door  : 

"Leave  your  books  and  come  from  that  cold  room 
to  your  supper." 

"  Tkis  book  has  not  been  seen  by  any  scholar  for 
two  hundred  years.  They  deny,  mother,  that  it  is 
even  in  existence  ;  but  I  have  it  in  my  hands — it  be- 
longs to  me  !  This  is  a  treasure,  mother." 

''What  good  will  your  treasure  do  you,  wretched 
boy?  " 

"But  I  have  it,  mother,"  said  the  Magister,  look- 
ing up  at  the  hard-featured  woman  ;  and  his  winking 
eyes  glistened  brightly.  "To-day  I  have  read  some 
proof  sheets  in  which  a  man  of  note  maintains  that 
this  volume  which  I  hold  here  has  never  existed.  He 
wishes  the  'never  existed'  to  be  printed  in  italics, 
and  I  have  so  marked  it  for  the  compositor,  though  I 
know  better." 

"  Are  you  coming  ?  "  called  out  the  mother  angrily. 
"Stop  your  work.  Your  beer  is  getting  flat." 

The  Magister  rose  unwillingly,  slipped  out  of  the 
room  with  his  felt  shoes,  and  seating  himself  at  the 
table  helped  himself  to  the  scanty  fare  before  him  and 
without  further  ado  began  to  eat. 

"Mother,"  he  said  to  the  woman,  who  was  watch- 
ing his  rapid  meal,  "  I  have  some  money  remaining  ; 
if  you  want  anything,  buy  it ;  but  I  will  know  how 
you  spend  it,  and  I  will  see  that  my  brother  does  not 
again  borrow  anything  from  you,  for  it  has  been  earned 
by  hard  work." 

"  Your  brother  will  now  pay  all  back,  for  Hahn  has 
improved  his  position,  and  he  has  a  good  salary." 

"That  is  not  true,"  replied  the  Magister,  looking 
sharply  at  his  mother.  "He  has  become  too  stylish 
to  dwell  with  us  now  ;  but  whenever  he  comes  he  al- 


THE  PROFESSOR'S  BALL.  317 

ways  wants  something  of  you,  and  you  have  always 
loved  him  more  than  me." 

"Do  not  say  so,  my  son,"  cried  Mrs.  Knips.  "He 
is  quite  different ;  you  are  always  industrious,  quiet, 
and  collected,  and  even  as  a  small  boy  you  began  to 
save." 

"  I  have  obtained  for  myself  what  was  dear  to  me," 
said  the  Magister,  looking  toward  his  room,  "and  I 
have  found  much." 

"Ah,  but  what  hardships  you  suffer  for  it,  my  poor 
child  !  "  said  the  mother  flatteringly. 

"  I  take  things  as  they  come,"  answered  the  Ma- 
gister, making  a  cheerful  grimace.  "I  read  proof- 
sheets,  and  I  do  much  work  for  these  learned  men, 
who  drive  in  carriages  like  people  of  distinction,  and 
when  I  come  to  them  they  treat  me  like  a  Roman 
slave.  No  man  knows  how  often  I  correct  their  stupid 
blunders,  and  the  bad  errors  in  their  Latin.  But  I  do 
not  do  it  for  all — only  for  those  who  have  deserved 
well  of  me.  I  let  the  mistakes  of  the  others  remain, 
and  I  shrug  my  shoulders  secretly  at  their  empty 
heads.  All  is  not  gold  that  glitters,"  he  said,  holding 
his  thin  beer  complacently  up  to  the  light,  "and  I 
alone  know  many  things.  I  am  always  correcting 
their  miserable  manuscripts,  but  do  not  correct  their 
worst  errors.  I  see  how  they  torment  themselves 
and  the  little  they  do  know  they  pilfer  from  other 
books.  One  sees  that  every  day,  mother,  and  one 
laughs  in  secret  at  the  course  of  the  world." 

And  Magister  Knips  laughed  at  the  world. 


318 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT, 


CHAPTER  XVII. 
THE    DECEPTION    OF    MR.     HUMMEL. 

IN  the  houses  of  the  park  there  reigned  peace,  for- 
bearance, and  secret  hope.  Since  the  arrival  of  Use 
the  old  strife  seemed  to  have  ceased,  and  the  hatchet 
to  have  been  buried.  It  is  true  that  Mr.  Hummel's 
dog  snarled  and  snapped  at  Mr.  Hahn's  cat  and  was 
boxed  on  the  ear  in  return  ;  and  that  Rothe,  the  porter, 
of  A.  C.  Hahn,  declared  his  contempt  of  the  store- 
keeper of  the  factory  of  Mr.  Hummel.  But  these  little 
occurrences  passed  away  like  inoffensive  air-bubbles 
which  rise  in  the  place  where  there  has  been  a  whirl- 
pool of  enmity.  The  intercourse  between  the  two 
houses  flowed  on  like  a  clear  brook,  and  forget-me-nots 
grew  on  its  banks.  If  a  misanthropical  spell  had  pen- 
etrated the  ground  at  the  time  when  Madame  Knips 
ruled  there  alone,  it  had  now  been  expelled  by  female 
exorcists. 

One  morning,  shortly  before  the  fair,  a  book-seller's 
porter  placed  a  pile  of  new  books  on  the  Doctor's 
writing-table ;  they  were  the  advance  copies  of  the  first 
great  work  he  had  written.  Fritz  opened  the  book 
and  gazed  at  the  title-page  for  a  moment  in  quiet  en- 
joyment ;  then  he  hastily  seized  his  pen,  wrote  some 
affectionate  words  on  the  fly-leaf  and  carried  it  to  his 
parents. 

The  book  treated,  in  the  words  of  Gabriel,  of 
the  old  Aryans  as  well  as  of  the  old  Germans ;  it  en- 
tered into  the  life  of  our  ancestors  before  the  time  in 
which  they  took  the  sensible  resolution  of  making 
pretty  nosegays  on  the  Blocksberg  and  rinsing  their 


THE    DECEPTION    OF    MR.    HUMMEL.  319 

drinking  horns  in  Father  Rhine.  It  was  a  very  learned 
book,  and  so  far  as  the  knowledge  of  the  writer 
reached,  it  revealed  many  secrets  of  antiquity. 

It  was  not  necessary  for  strangers  to  inform  the 
father  and  mother  of  the  importance  of  the  book  which 
Fritz  now  brought  them.  The  mother  kissed  her  son 
on  the  forehead,  and  could  not  control  her  emotion 
when  she  saw  his  name  printed  in  such  large  and  beau- 
tiful characters  on  the  title-page.  Mr.  Hahn  took 
the  book  in  his  hands,  and  carried  it  into  the  garden. 
There  he  laid  it  on  the  table  of  the  Chinese  temple, 
read  the  dedication  several  times  and  took  a  turn  or 
so  about  the  pavilion,  looking  in  again  occasionally, 
in  order  to  observe  whether  the  style  of  building  har- 
monized well  with  the  book  ;  then  he  cleared  his  throat 
in  order  to  master  his  joyful  emotions. 

Not  less  was  the  pleasure  in  the  study  of  the  Pro- 
fessor ;  he  went  hastily  through  the  book  from  begin- 
ning to  end.  "It  is  remarkable,"  he  then  said,  much 
pleased,  to  Use,  "how  boldly  and  firmly  Fritz  grap- 
ples with  the  subject;  and  with  a  self  control,  too,  for 
which  I  should  not  have  given  him  credit.  There  is 
much  in  it  that  .is  quite  new  to  me.  I  am  surprised 
that  he  should  have  concluded  the  work  so  quickly 
and  quietly." 

What  the  learned  world  thought  of  the  Doctor's 
book  may  be  known  from  many  printed  eulogies.  It 
is  more  difficult  to  determine  what  effect  it  had  in  his 
own  street.  Mr.  Hummel  studied  a  detailed  review 
of  the  work  in  his  paper,  not  without  audible  remarks 
of  disapprobation  however  ;  he  hummed  at  the  word 
Veda  and  grumbled  at  the  name  Humboldt,  and  he 
whistled  through  his  teeth  at  the  praise  which  was 
accorded  to  the  deep  learning  of  the  author.  When 


320  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

at  the  conclusion  the  reviewer  formally  thanked  the 
Doctor  in  the  name  of  science,  and  urgently  recom- 
mended the  work  to  all  readers,  Mr.  Hummel's  hum- 
ming broke  into  the  melody  of  the  old  Dessauer,  and 
he  threw  the  paper  on  the  table.  "  I  do  not  intend  to 
buy  it,"  was  all  that  he  vouchsafed  to  say  to  his  wife 
and  daughter.  But  in  the  course  of  the  day  he  cast 
an  occasional  glance  at  the  corner  of  the  hostile  house 
where  the  Doctor's  room  was,  and  then  again  at  the 
upper  story  of  his  own  house,  as  if  he  wished  to  weigh 
the  comparative  merits  of  both  the  learned  men  and 
their  abodes. 

When  Use  told  Laura  her  husband's  opinion  of  the 
book,  Laura  colored  a  little,  and  replied,  throwing 
back  her  head  :  "  I  hope  it  is  so  learned  that  we  need 
not  meddle  with  it."  Yet  this  disinclination  to  meddle 
with  the  book  did  not  prevent  her  some  days  later 
from  borrowing  the  book  from  the  Professor,  upon  the 
plea  that  she  wished  to  show  it  to  her  mother.  It  was 
carried  to  her  own  little  room,  where  it  remained  for  a 
long  time. 

Among  the  other  inhabitants  of  the  street,  the  im- 
portance of  the  Hahn  family — whose  name  had  ac- 
quired such  renown,  and  whose  Fritz  was  praised  so 
much  in  the  papers — was  greatly  increased.  The 
scales  of  popular  favor  sank  decidedly  on  the  side  of 
this  house,  and  even  Mr.  Hummel  found  it  expedient 
not  to  object  to  his  family's  speaking  with  moderate 
approbation  of  their  neighbor's  son.  When  Dorchen, 
as  sometimes  happened,  met  Gabriel  in  the  streets, 
she  even  ventured  to  accompany  him  for  a  few  min- 
utes into  the  courtyard  of  the  enemy,  in  spite  of  the 
growling  of  the  dog  and  the  sinister  frowns  of  the 
master. 


THE    DECEPTION    OF    MR.     HUMMEL.  32! 

One  warm  evening  in  March  she  had  said  a  few 
civil  words  to  Gabriel  in  passing  and  was  tripping 
neatly  across  the  street  to  her  own  house,  with  Gabriel 
looking  after  her  full  of  admiration,  when  Mr.  Hum- 
mel came  out  just  in  time  to  witness  the  last  greeting: 

"She  is  as  pretty  as  a  red-breast,"  said  Gabriel  to 
Mr.  Hummel.  The  latter  shook  his  head  benevolently. 
I  well  see,  Gabriel,  how  the  wind  blows,  and  I  say 
nothing,  for  it  would  be  of  no  use.  But  one  piece  of 
good  advice  I  will  give  you.  You  do  not  understand 
how  to  deal  with  women  ;  you  are  not  gruff  enough 
with  the  girl.  When  I  was  young  they  trembled  at 
the  faintest  movement  of  my  handkerchief,  and  yet 
they  swarmed  about  me  like  bees.  This  sex  must  be 
intimidated  and  you'll  spoil  all  by  kindness.  I  think 
well  of  you  Gabriel,  and  1  give  you  this  counsel  there- 
fore as  a  friend.  Look  you,  there  is  Madame  Hum- 
mel. She  is  a  strong-willed  woman,  but  I  always  keep 
her  under  restraint  ;  if  I  didn't  growl,  she  would. 
And,  as  there  must  be  growling,  it  is  more  agreeable 
for  me  to  do  it  myself." 

"  Every  animal  has  its  ways,"  replied  Gabriel.  "  I 
have  no  talent  for  developing  into  a  bear." 

"  It  can  be  learnt,"  said  Mr.  Hummel,  benignantly. 
He  raised  his  eye-brows,  and  made  a  sly  grimace. 
Something  is  in  progress  in  the  garden  over  there  ; 
they  are  probably  speculating  again  on  some  new  ar- 
rival, to  which  I,  in  due  time,  shall  take  upon  myself, 
under  all  circumstances,  to  give  the  right  name  " — he 
lowered  his  voice — ;  "something anonymous  has  been 
unpacked,  and  brought  out  into  the  garden."  With 
a  feeling  of  indignation  at  his  own  caution,  he  con- 
tinued :  "Believe  me,  Gabriel,  the  world  is  growing 
cowardly  from  this  over-production  of  children  ;  and 


322  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

people  are  so  crowded  that  freedom  ceases  to  exist ; 
life  is  now  slavery  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave.  Here 
I  stand  on  my  own  ground,  and  if  I  choose  to  dig  a 
hole  on  this  spot  to  the  centre  of  the  earth,  no  man 
can  prevent  me  ;  and  yet,  on  my  own  property,  we 
cannot  express  an  outspoken  opinion  ;  and  why?  Be- 
cause it  might  be  heard,  and  displease  the  ears  of 
strangers.  To  such  a  point  have  we  come  ;  a  man  is 
the  slave  of  his  neighbors.  Now,  only  think,  I  have 
but  one  neighbor  opposite  ;  on  the  other  side  I  am 
protected  by  the  water  and  the  factory,  yet  I  must 
swallow  the  truth,  as  I  dare  not  speak  out  beyond  my 
boundary.  He  who  is  surrounded  on  all  sides  by 
neighbors  must  lead  a  lamentable  life  ;  he  cannot  even 
cut  off  his  head  in  his  own  garden  without  the  whole 
neighborhood  raising  a  cry  because  the  sight  is  not 
pleasing  to  them."  He  pointed  with  his  thumb  to  the 
neighboring  house,  and  continued,  confidentially  : 
"We  are  reconciled  now  ;  the  women  would  not  rest 
until  we  were.  I  assure  you  they  lacked  the  true  spirit 
to  carry  on  a  quarrel  over  there  ;  the  affair  became 
tedious  and  so  I  gave  in." 

"Yet  it  is  well  that  all  is  settled,"  said  Gabriel. 
*'If  the  fathers  quarrel,  how  can  the  children  meet  on 
good  terms  ?  " 

"Why  shouldn't  they  make  faces  at  each  other?" 
returned  Mr.  Hummel,  crossly.  "I  can't  bear  this 
everlasting  bowing  and  scraping." 

"Every  one  knows  that,"  replied  Gabriel.  ."But 
if  Miss  Laura  meets  the  Doctor  in  our  house,  which 
often  happens,  she  surely  cannot  growl  at  him." 

"So  they  meet  often  !  "  repeated  Hummel,  thought- 
fully. "There  again  you  have  an  instance  of  this 
overcrowding  ;  they  can't  get  out  of  each  other's  way. 


THE    DECEPTION    OF    MR.     HUMMEL.  323 

Well  !  I  can  trust  to  my  daughter,  Gabriel  ;  she  has 
my  disposition." 

"  I  wouldn't  be  so  sure  of  that,  "  replied  Gabriel 
laughing. 

"  I  assure  you  she  is  quite  of  my  mind,"  affirmed 
Hummel,  decidedly.  "But,  as  to  this  cessation  of 
hostilities,  you  need  not  rejoice  so  much  at  it  ;  for, 
depend  upon  it,  it  cannot  last  long  between  our  houses. 
When  the  ice  has  thawed,  and  the  garden  amusements 
begin,  there  will  be  trouble  again.  It  has  always 
been  so  and  I  do  not  see  why  it  should  not  continue 
so,  in  spite  of  reconciliations,  and  in  spite  of  your 
new  mistress,  for  whom  I  nevertheless  have  great  re- 
spect." 

The  conversation,  which  had  been  carried  on  in 
the  garden,  was  interrupted  by  a  dark,  solemn-looking 
man,  who  presented  a  large  letter  in  a  tinted  envelope. 
He  introduced  himself  to  Mr.  Hummel,  and  brought 
him  an  invitation  for  his  absent  daughter  to  undertake 
the  office  of  godmother  to  a  baby  that  had  just  been  born 
to  limit  the  space  in  the  world  still  more.  To  this  in- 
vitation no  objection  could  be  made  ;  the  young 
mother  the  wife  of  a  lawyer,  was  Laura's  friend,  and 
the  daughter  of  her  godmother.  It  was  an  old  con- 
nection of  the  family,  and  Hummel,  as  father  and 
citizen,  duly  accepted  the  invitation. 

"For  whom  is  the  other  letter  you  have  in  your 
hand  ?  "  he  asked  of  the  messenger. 

"  For  Doctor  Hahn,  who  is  to  stand  with  Miss 
Laura." 

"Indeed!"  said  Hummel,  ironically;  "matters 
are  going  at  a  great  pace.  Take  your  letter  over 
there.  Did  I  not  tell  you  so,  Gabriel?"  he  added, 
turning  to  his  confidant.  "Scarcely  reconciled  be- 


A 


324  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

fore  the  tribunal,  and  at  once  sponsors  together ;  who 
may  know  but  that  to-morrow  morning  the  old  scare- 
crow himself  will  come  over  and  offer  to  be  'hail-fel- 
low-well-met '  with  me.  There  again  you  have  the 
consequences  of  over-crowding,  and  of  Christianity 
too.  This  time  my  poor  child  is  the  victim." 

He  took  the  letter  into  the  room  and  threw  it  on 
the  table  before  his  wife  and  daughter. 

"This  comes  from  reconciliation,  weak  women, " 
he  cried,  tauntingly.  Now  you  will  have  nurse,  mid- 
wife, godfather,  and  all,  about  your  heels." 

The  ladies  studied  the  letter,  and  Laura  thought 
it  inconsiderate  in  her  godmother  to  have  chosen  just 
the  Doctor  for  her  partner. 

"That's  to  accommodate  the  sponsor's  carriage," 
exclaimed  Mr.  Hummel,  mockingly,  from  the  corner. 
"  It  was  made  to  carry  two  at  once.  Now,  that  fellow 
Humboldt  will  come  over  here  in  white  gloves  in  order 
to  fetch  you  to  church,  and  I  believe  he  will  have  impu- 
dence enough  to  send  you  a  sponsorial  present." 

"If  he  did  not  do  so,  it  would  be  an  insult,"  re- 
plied the  wife.  "  He  must  do  it,  or  it  would  give  occa- 
sion for  people  to  talk.  We  cannot  object  to  it ;  he 
will  send  a  basket  of  flowers  with  gloves  for  the  god- 
mother, and  Laura  will  send  him  in  return  the  pocket- 
handkerchief,  as  is  the  custom  among  our  acquaint- 
ances. You  know  that  Laura's  godmother  thinks  a 
great  deal  of  these  things." 

"His  flowers  in  our  house,  his  gloves  on  our  fin- 
gers, and  our  handkerchief  in  his  pocket  !  "  said  the 
master  of  the  house,  bitterly;  "Pray,  what  are  things 
coming  to." 

"  I  beg  of  you,  Hummel,"  rejoined  his  wife,  dis- 
pleased, "do  not  annoy  us  by  finding  fault  with  the 


THE    DECEPTION    OF    MR.     HUMMEL.  325 

civilities  which  are  unavoidable  on  such  an  occasion, 
and  of  which  no  one  takes  advantage." 

"  I  thank  you  for  your  civilities  which  one  cannot 
avoid,  and  to  which  no  one  attributes  anything.  Noth- 
ing is  so  insupportable  to  me,  among  the  people  here, 
as  their  eternal  obeisances  before  one's  face,  whilst 
they  pull  one  to  pieces  behind  one's  back." 

He  left  the  room  and  slammed  the  door  behind 
him. 

The  mother  then  began  : 

"He  has  nothing  really  to  say  against  it ;  he  only 
wishes  to  maintain  his  character  for  sternness.  It  is 
not  absolutely  necessary  that  you  should  send  the 
Doctor  a  present  on  this  occasion,  but  you  still  owe 
him  some  little  attention  from  that  encounter  with  the 
shepherd. " 

Laura  was  reconciled  to  the  thought  of  becoming 
godmother  with  the  Doctor,  and  said  : 

"  I  will  make  a  design  for  the  corner  of  the  hand- 
kerchief, and  will  embroider  it." 

The  following  morning  she  went  out  to  buy  cam- 
bric. But  Mr.  Hummel  also  went  out.  He  visited 
an  acquaintance  who  was  a  furrier,  took  him  confiden- 
tially aside,  and  ordered  a  pair  of  gloves  of  white 
cat's  skin  for  a  small  hand  ;  he  directed  that  a  cat's 
claw  be  fastened  at  the  point  of  each  finger.  But  he 
wished  it  to  be  a  delicate  one,  of  an  unborn  cat,  or 
failing  in  that,  of  a  very  young  kitten,  and  that  the 
claw  should  stand  out  stiffly.  Then  he  entered  another 
shop  and  asked  for  some  colored  printed  cotton  pocket- 
handkerchiefs — such  as  one  buys  for  a  few  pennies — 
and  chose  one  black  and  red,  with  a  frightful  portrait, 
that  just  suited  his  frame  of  mind.  This  purchase  he 
put  in  his  pocket. 


326  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

The  morning  of  the  christening  arrived.  In  the 
house  of  Mr.  Hummel  the  flat-irons  clattered  ;  the 
mother  added  some  last  stitches  ;  and  Laura  tripped 
busily  up  and  down  the  stairs.  Meanwhile,  Hummel 
wandered  back  and  forth  between  the  door  of  the 
house  and  factory,  watching  every  person  that  entered. 
Spitehahn  was  sitting  on  the  threshold  growling  when- 
ever the  foot  of  a  stranger  approached  the  door  of  the 
house. 

"Show  yourself  as  you  are,  Spitehahn,"  grumbled 
Hummel,  approaching  his  dog;  "and  catch  hold  of 
the  woman  from  yonder  by  the  dress ;  she  will  not 
venture  in,  if  you  keep  watch." 

The  red  dog  answered  by  showing  his  teeth   mali- 
ciously at  his  master. 

"That's  right,"  said  Hummel,  and  continued  his 
walk. 

At  last  Dorchen  appeared  at  her  own  house-door, 
and  tripped  with  a  covered  basket  in  her  hand  to  the 
steps  of  Mr.  Hummel's  house.  Spitehahn  rose  grimly, 
uttered  a  hoarse  growl,  and  bristled  his  hair. 

"Call  that  frightful  dog  away,  Mr.  Hummel,"  cried 
Dorchen,  snappishly.  "I  have  a  message  for  Miss 
Laura." 

Mr.  Hummel  assumed  a  benevolent  expression  of 
countenance  and  put  his  hand  in  his  pocket. 

"  The  ladies  are  at  work,  my  pretty  child, "  he  said, 
drawing  out  a  heavy  piece  of  money ;  "perhaps  I  can 
attend  to  it." 

The  messenger  was  so  startled  at  the  unexpected 
politeness  of  the  tyrant,  that  she  made  a  mute  courtesy 
and  let  the  basket  slip  out  of  her  hand. 

"  It  shall  be  attended  to  carefully,"  completed  Mr. 
Hummel,  with  an  engaging  smile. 


THE    DECEPTION    OF    MR.     HUMMEL. 


327 


He  carried  the  basket  into  the  house,  and  called 
Susan  to  take  it  to  the  ladies  ;,  after  which  he  went 
into  the  hall  again,  and  stroked  the  dog.  It  was  not 
•long  before  he  heard  the  door  of  the  sitting-room  fly 
open  and  his  name  called  loudly  in  the  hall.x  He  en- 
tered cautiously  into  the  ladies'  room,  and  found  them 
in  a  dreadful  state  of  disturbance.  A  beautiful  basket 
was  standing  on  the  table,  flowers  were  scattered 
about,  and  two  little  fur  gloves,  with  large  claws  at 
the  ends  of  the  fingers,  lay  on  the  floor,  like  paws  cut 
from  a  beast  of  prey.  Laura  was  sitting  before  them 
sobbing. 

"  Holloa  !"  cried  Mr.  Hummel,  "  is  that  one  of  the 
sponsorial  pleasantries  ?  " 

"Henry,"  cried  his  wife  vehemently,  "your  child 
has  received  an  insult ;  the  Doctor  has  dared  to  send 
these  to  your  daughter." 

"Ha!"  cried  Hummel;  "cat's  paws,  and  with 
claws  !  Why  not  ?  They  will  keep  you  warm  in  church ; 
you  can  lay  hold  of  the  Doctor  with  them." 

"  It  must  be  a  joke,"  cried  Laura,  with  the  hot 
tears  flowing  down  her  cheeks  ;  "it  is  because  I  have 
sometimes  teased  him.  I  should  never  have  believed 
him  capable  of  such  rudeness." 

"Do  you  know  him  so  well  ?  "  inquired  Mr.  Hummel. 
"Well,  if  it  is  a  joke,  as  you  say,  take  it  as  a  joke 
then  ;  this  emotion  isn't  necessary." 

"What  is  to  be  done  now?"  cried  the  mother ;  "can 
she  still  stand  godmother  with  him  after  this  insult?" 

"I  should  think  so,"  replied  Mr.  Hummel,  ironi- 
cally; "this  insult  is  a  childish  affair  compared  to 
others — compared  to  house-building,  bell-ringing,  and 
dog-poisoning.  If  you  can  stomach  all  that,  why  not 
cats'  paws,  too?" 


328  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

''Laura  has  hemmed  and  embroidered  a  handker- 
chief for  him,"  exclaimed  the  mother;  "and  she  had 
taken  the  greatest  pains  to  finish  it  in  time." 

"I  will  not  send  it  to  him,"  cried  Laura. 

"So  you  hemmed  and  embroidered  it  yourself?" 
rejoined  Hummel.  "It  is  charming  to  live  in  friend- 
ship with  one's  neighbors.  You  are  weak  women- 
folk, and  you  take  the  matter  too  seriously.  These 
are  courtesies  which  one  cannot  avoid,  and  to  which 
no  importance  is  attached.  Do  as  you  said  you  would. 
You  must  just  send  the  thing  over  to  him.  You  must 
not  give  him  or  any  one  else  occasion  to  make  re- 
marks. Keep  your  contempt  to  yourself." 

"Father  is  right,"  cried  Laura,  springing  up; 
"away  with  the  handkerchief,  and  my  account  with 
the  Doctor  will  be  closed  for  ever." 

"That's  right,"  assented  Hummel.  "Where  is 
the  rag?  Away  with  it." 

The  handkerchief  lay  ready  on  a  plate,  wrapped 
up  in  fine  blue  paper,  and  also  covered  with  spring 
flowers. 

"So  this  is  the  hemmed  and  embroidered  thing? 
We  will  send  it  over  immediately." 

He  took  the  plate  from  the  table,  and  carried  it 
quickly  into  the  factory;  from  thence  the  blue  packet 
went,  with  many  compliments,  to  the  godfather  in  the 
house  of  the  enemy. 

Mrs.  Hahn  brought  the  card  of  greeting  and  the 
present  to  her  son's  room. 

"Ah,  that  is  a  charming  attention,"  remarked  the 
Doctor,  closely  examining  the  flowers. 

"  It  is  not  so  customary  now-a-days  to  send  pres- 
ents to  the  gentlemen  too,"  said  the  Doctor's  mother. 
"  But  I  always  thought  it  such  a  pretty  custom." 


THE    DECEPTION    OF    MR.    HUMMEL.  329 

She  unfolded  the  paper  inquisitively,  and  looked 
up  in  astonishment.  A  printed  cotton  handkerchief 
lay  within,  as  thick  as  leather  and  woven  with  coarse 
threads.  It  might  be  a  mask  only,  and  in  this  hope 
she  unfolded  it,  but  a  frightful  caricature  alone  ap- 
peared in  diabolical  colors  of  red  and  black. 

"That  is  not  a  nice  joke,"  said  the  mother,  vexed. 

The  Doctor  looked  downcast.  "  I  have  sometimes 
teased  Laura  Hummel.  This  probably  has  reference 
to  some  bantering  that  has  passed  between  us.  I  beg 
of  you,  mother,  to  place  the  flowers  in  a  glass." 

He  took  the  handkerchief,  concealed  it  in  a  drawer, 
and  again  bent  over  his  writing. 

"I  should  not  have  expected  this  of  Laura,"  con- 
tinued the  mother,  much  disturbed.  But  as  her  son 
did  not  encourage  further  complaints,  she  arranged 
the  flowers  for  him  and  left  the  room,  pondering  upon 
the  mortification  of  her  child. 

The  carriage  drove  up  and  the  Doctor  got  into  it 
to  fetch  the  godmother. 

"Our  doors  are  so  near  together,"  said  Hummel, 
who  was  standing  at  the  window,  "that  he  will  only 
just  have  time  to  creep  out  from  the  other  side." 

After  some  difficulty  in  turning,  the  carriage  ar- 
rived at  the  steps  of  Mr.  Hummel.  The  servant 
opened  the  door,  but  before  the  Doctor  could  jump 
down  Susan  appeared  on  the  steps  and  called  out : 

"Do  not  take  the  trouble  of  entering,  the  young 
lady  will  come  immediately." 

Laura  swept  down  the  steps,  all  in  white  as  if 
veiled  in  a  snowcloud  ;  and  how  pretty  she  looked  ! 
Her  cheeks  were  indeed  paler  than  usual,  and  her 
brows  were  gloomily  knit,  but  the  sad  expression  gave 
an  enchanting  dignity  to  her  countenance.  She  avoided 


330  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

looking  at  the  Doctor,  only  slightly  moving  her  head 
at  his  greeting,  and  when  he  offered  his  hand  to  assist 
her,  she  passed  by  him  and  seated  herself  in  her  place 
as  if  he  were  not  there.  He  had  some  difficulty  in 
finding  room  next  to  her  ;  she  nodded,  ignoring  him, 
to  Mr.  Hummel,  who  was  standing  on  the  steps  look- 
ing far  more  cheerful  than  his  child.  The  horses  trot- 
ted slowly  on  ;  Laura  looked  neither  to  the  right  nor 
to  the  left.  "It  is  the  first  time  she  officiates  as  god- 
mother, "thought  the  Doctor,  "that  causes  this  solemn 
mood  ;  or  perhaps  she  is  repentant  because  of  the  col- 
ored handkerchief  !  "  He  looked  at  her  hands  ;  the 
gloves  that  he  sent  were  not  to  be  seen.  "Have  I 
offended  against  etiquette?"  he  thought  again,  "or 
were  they  too  large  for  her  little  hands  ?" 

"He  is  silent,"  she  thought,  "that  is  his  bad  con- 
science ;  he  is  thinking  of  the  cat's  claws,  and  has  not 
a  word  of  thanks  for  my  pocket-handkerchief  ;  I  have 
been  sadly  mistaken  in  him.  "  This  consideration  made 
her  so  sorrowful  that  tears  again  rose  to  her  eyes  ;  but 
she  pressed  her  lips  tightly  together,  squeezed  the 
thumb  of  her  right  hand,  and  silently  counted  from 
one  up  to  ten,  an  old  recipe  she  had  formerly  used  for 
restraining  vehement  feeling." 

"Things  cannot  goon  so,"  thought  the  Doctor,  "I 
must  speak  to  her." 

"You  have  not  been  able  to  use  the  gloves  that  I 
ventured  to  send  you,"  he  began  modestly  ;  "I  fear  I 
have  made  a  bad  selection." 

This  was  too  much  ;  Laura  turned  her  head  sharply 
toward  the  Doctor.  For  a  moment  he  saw  two  flash- 
ing eyes,  and  heard  the  contemptuous  words  :  "I  am 
no  cat."  Again  her  lips  were  compressed,  and  she 
clenched  her  hand  convulsively. 


( 


r 

THE    DECEPTION    OF    MR.     HUMMEL.  331 

Fritz  reflected  with  astonishment  whether  gloves 
that  wrinkle  could  ever  have  been  considered  a  charac- 
teristic sign  of  our  domestic  animal.  He  thought  the 
remark  incongruous.  "What  a  pity  she  is  so  whim- 
sical !"  After  a  time  he  began  again  :  "  I  fear  you 
will  feel  the  draught  ;  shall  I  close  the  window  ?  " 

"Not  at  all,"   answered   Laura,  with  icy  coldness. 

"Do  you  know  what  the  baby  is  to  be  called?" 
continued  the  doctor. 

"  He  is  to  be  called  Fritz, "  returned  Laura;  and 
for  the  second  time  a  flaming  look  of  anger  met  his 
spectacles,  then  she  turned  away  again. 

Ah  !  in  spite  of  the  lightning  that  flashed  from  her 
eyes,  the  Doctor  could  not  deny  but  that  she  was  at 
this  moment  wonderfully  lovely.  She  also  felt  obliged 
to  say  something  now,  and  began,  over  her  shoul- 
der : — 

"  I  think  the  name  a  very  common  one." 

"It  is  my  own  name,"  said  the  Doctor ;  "and  as  I 
hear  it  every  day,  I  must  agree  with  you.  It  is  at  least 
a  German  name,"  he  added,  good-humoredly.  "It 
is  a  pity  that  they  are  so  much  neglected." 

"As  my  name  is  a  foreign  one,"  replied  Laura, 
again  over  her  shoulder,  "  I  have  aright  to  prefer 
foreign  names." 

"  If  she  continues  like  this  the  whole  day,"  thought 
Fritz,  discouraged,  "  I  shall  have  a  very  pleasant  time 
'  of  it,  indeed." 

"  I  must  sit  next  him  at  dinner,  and  bear  the  in- 
sult," thought  she.  "Ah  !  life  is  terrible." 

"They  arrived  at  the  house,  both  glad  to  find  them- 
selves among  others.  When  they  entered  the  room, 
they  hurried  to  different  parts  of  it ;  but,  of  course, 
being  obliged  to  greet  the  young  mother,  they  again 


332  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

had  to  meet.  When  Laura  turned  to  her  godmother, 
the  Doctor  also  approached  from  the  other  side,  and 
the  good  lady  called  to  mind  the  day  when  they  had 
come  together  to  her  summer  residence,  and  she  could 
not  refrain  from  exclaiming:  "  That  portends  some- 
thing ;  you  have  again  come  together,  dear  children." 

Laura  raised  her  head  proudly,  and  replied  : 
"  Only  because  you  have  wished  it." 

They  went  to  church.  The  little  Fritz  tossed  about 
in  his  godmother's  arms,  frightened  at  the  baptismal 
font ;  but  when  he  was  handed  over  to  the  tall  Fritz, 
he  broke  out  into  an  angry  cry ;  and  Laura  observed 
with  contempt  how  disconcerted  the  Doctor  was,  and 
what  awkward  efforts  he  made,  by  raising  and  lower- 
ing his  arms,  and  by  his  looks,  to  appease  the  little 
squaller,  till  at  last  the  nurse— a  very  resolute  woman 
— came  to  his  assistance. 

With  the  approach  of  sunset  the  duties  of  the  day 
became  more  insupportable.  At  the  christening  feast 
all  Laura's  most  gloomy  anticipations  were  fulfilled, 
for  she  was  seated  beside  the  Doctor;  and,  for  both,  it 
was  a  most  disagreeable  meal,  indeed.  The  Doctor 
once  more  ventured  to  make  some  advances,  hoping  to 
break  through  her  incomprehensible  mood,  but  he 
might  as  well  have  attempted  to  thaw  the  ice  of  a 
glacier  with  alucifer  match,  for  Laura  had  now  become 
an  adept  in  the  expression  of  social  contempt.  She 
conversed  exclusively  with  the  father  of  the  child,  who 
sat  at  her  other  side,  and  encouraged  by  his  cheerful  gos- 
sip she  recovered  her  wonted  elasticity  of  spirit;  while 
Fritz  became  more  silent,  and  noticeably  neglected  a 
pleasing  young  woman,  his  left-hand  neighbor.  But 
things  grew  still  worse.  When  the  proper  time  ap- 
proached, the  other  godfather,  a  city  councillor,  a  man 


THE    DECEPTION    OF    MR.     HU.M.MKL. 


333 


of  the  world  and  a  good  speaker,  came  behind  the 
Doctor's  chair,  and  declared  that  he  could  not  under- 
take to  bring  the  christening  toast  as  he  was  suffering 
with  a  headache,  which  drove  away  all  his  thoughts, 
and  that  the  Doctor  must  speak  in  his  stead.  The 
possibility  of  this  had  never  occurred  to  the  Doctor, 
and  it  was  so  unpleasant  to  him  in  his  present  mood 
that  he  quietly,  but  firmly,  refused  his  consent  to  the 
proposal.  Laura  again  listened  with  deep  contempt 
to  the  discussion  between  the  two  gentlemen  about  an 
oratorical  exercise  which  was  not  even  to  be  put  in 
writing.  The  master  of  the  house  also  observed  it, 
and  a  feeling  of  awkward  expectation  threw  a  gloom 
over  the  society,  which  is  not  calculated  to  encourage 
unwilling  after-dinner  speakers,  but  rather  to  depress 
them,  and  scatter  their  thoughts.  Just,  however,  as 
the  Doctor  was  on  the  point  of  performing  his  duty, 
Laura,  after  giving  him  another  cold  look,  rose  and 
clinked  her  glass.  She  was  greeted  with  a  loud  bravo ; 
and  she  then  said,  to  the  astonishment  of  herself,  and 
delight  of  all  present :  "  As  the  gentlemen  sponsors  are 
so  little  inclined  to  do  their  d  uty,  I  crave  your  pardon  for 
undertaking  what  they  ought  to  have  done."  There- 
upon, she  bravely  proposed  and  led  the  toast ;  it  was 
a  bold  undertaking,  but  it  was  successful,  and  she  was 
overwhelmed  with  applause.  On  the  otfrer  hand,  sar- 
castic speeches  were  made  against  the  Doctor  by  the 
gentlemen  present.  Nevertheless,  he  extricated  himself 
tolerably,  the  situation  being  so  desperate  that  it  re- 
stored to  him  his  powers ;  nay,  he  had  the  impudence 
to  declare  that  he  delayed  intentionally,  in  order  to 
procure  for  the  society  the  pleasure  which  all  must 
have  experienced  in  listening  to  the  eloquence  of  his 
neighbor.  He  then  made  an  amusing  speech  on 


334  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

every  possible  subject ;  and  all  laughed,  but  they  did 
not  know  what  he  was  aiming  at,  till  he  adroitly  turned 
it  upon  the  godfathers  and  godmothers  and  in  particular 
proposed  the  health  of  his  charming  neighbor  who  sat 
beside  him.  This  answered  well  enough  for  the  other 
guests,  but  to  Laura  it  was  insufferable  mockery  and 
hypocrisy  ;  and  when  she  had  to  clink  glasses  with  him, 
she  looked  so  indignantly  at  him,  that  he  quickly 
drew  back  from  her. 

He  now  began  to  show  his  indifference  after  his 
fashion ;  he  talked  loudly  to  his  neighbor,  and  drank 
many  glasses  of  wine.  Laura  drew  her  chair  away 
from  him ;  fearing  that  he  might  drink  too  much,  he 
became  an  object  of  annoyance  to  her,  and  she  gradually 
relapsed  into  silence.  But  the  Doctor  took  no  heed  of 
this;  again  he  clinked  his  glass,  and  made  another 
speech,  which  was  so  comical  that  it  produced  the 
happiest  effect  on  the  company.  But  Laura  sat  as 
stiff  as  a  stone  image,  only  casting  an  occasional 
stolen  glance  towards  him.  After  that  the  Doctor  left 
her  side ;  his  chair  stood  vacant,  but,  figuratively 
speaking,  the  cotton  pocket-handkerchief  and  the 
small  fur  gloves  still  lay  upon  it,  and  it  seemed  quite 
uneasy  under  its  invisible  burden.  The  Doctor,  mean- 
while, went  about  the  table,  stopping  here  and  there 
to  pay  his  respects;  and  wherever  he  stopped  there 
was  laughing  and  clinking  of  glasses.  When  he  had 
finished  his  round,  he  approached  the  host  and  hostess ; 
and  Laura  heard  them  thank  him  for  the  merry  even- 
ing, and  praise  the  gaiety  of  his  spirits. 

He  then  returned  to  his  place  ;  and  now  he  had  the 
impudence  to  turn  to  Laura,  and,  with  an  expression 
in  which  she  clearly  perceived  a  sneer,  he  held  out  his 
hand  to  her  under  the  table,  saying,  "Let  us  make 


[7 


THE    DECEPTION    OF    MR.     HUMMEL.  335 

peace,  naughty  godmother;  give  me  your  hand." 
Laura's  whole  heart  revolted,  and  she  exclaimed, 
"You  shall  have  my  hand  immediately."  She  put  her 
hand  quickly  into  her  pocket,  put  on  one  of  the  cat's- 
skin  gloves,  and  scratched  him  with  it  on  the  back  of 
his  hand.  "There,  take  what  you  deserve." 

The  Doctor  felt  a  sharp  pain  ;  he  raised  his  hand, 
and  he  perceived  it  was  tattooed  with  red  streaks. 
Laura  threw  her  glove  into  his  lap,  and  added:  "If 
I  were  a  man,  I  would  make  you  feel  in  another  way 
the  insult  you  have  offered  me." 

The  Doctor  looked  about  him  ;  his  left-hand  neigh- 
bor had  risen  ;  and  on  the  other  side,  the  master  of  the 
house,  bending  over  the  table,  formed  a  convenient 
wall  between  them  and  the  outer  world.  He  looked 
in  astonishment  at  the  challenge  in  his  lap  ;  it  was  all 
incomprehensible  to  him  ;  he  was  conscious  but  of 
one  thing,  that  Laura,  in  spite  of  her  passion,  was  en- 
chantingly  beautiful. 

He  too  put  his  hand  into  his  pocket,  and  said  : 
"  Happily,  I  am  in  a  position  to  bind  your  present  of 
this  morning  about  the  wounds."  He  pulled  out  the 
red  and  black  handkerchief,  and  began  to  wind  it 
round  his  wounded  hand  ;  in  doing  which,  it  could 
not  fail  being  seen  that  the  hand  had  a  most  uncanny 
murderous  appearance.  When  Laura  saw  the  bloody 
scratches,  she  was  shocked,  but  she  bravely  concealed 
her  repentance,  saying  coldly,  "  At  least  it  would  be 
better  for  your  hand  if  you  would  take  my  handker- 
chief as  a  bandage,  instead  of  that  stiff  clumsy  thing." 

"It  is  your  handkerchief,"  replied  the  Doctor,  sor- 
rowfully. 

"This  is  worst  of  all,"  cried  Laura,  with  quivering 
voice.  "  You  have  behaved  towards  me  to-day  in  a 


336  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

manner  that  is  highly  humiliating  to  me,  and  I  ask 
you  what  have  I  done  to  deserve  such  treatment  ?  " 

"What  have  I  done  to  deserve  such  reproaches?" 
asked  the  Doctor,  in  return.  "This  morning  you  sent 
me  this  with  your  compliments. 

"I?"  cried  Laura;  "you  sent  me  these  cat's 
paws.  But  I  did  not  send  that  handkerchief.  My 
handkerchief  had  none  of  the  beauty  of  this  colored 
print — it  was  only  white." 

(<  I  may  say  the  same  of  my  gloves  ;  they  were  not 
blessed  with  claws — they  were  plain  kid." 

Laura  turned  to  him,  anxiously  gazing  into  his 
face.  "  Is  that  true?" 

"  It  is  true,"  said  the  Doctor,  with  convincing  sin- 
cerity; "I  know  nothing  about  these  gloves." 

"Then  we  are  both  victims  of  a  deception,"  cried 
Laura,  confounded.  "Oh,  forgive  me,  and  forget 
what  has  passed."  Guessing  the  state  of  the  case, 
she  continued  :  "I  beg  of  you  to  say  no  more  on  the 
subject.  Permit  me  to  bind  your  hand  with  this  hand- 
kerchief." 

He  held  out  his  hand  ;  she  staunched  the  blood 
with  her  handkerchief,  and  hastily  wound  it  about  the 
scratches. 

"It  is  too  small  for  a  bandage,"  she  said,  sorrow- 
fully ;  "we  must  put  your  own  over  it.  This  has  been 
a  disagreeable  day,  Doctor.  Oh,  forget  it,  and  do  not 
be  angry  with  me." 

The  Doctor  was  by  no  means  inclined  to  be  angry, 
as  might  be  perceived  from  the  eager  conversation 
into  which  they  now  fell.  Their  hearts  were  lightened  ; 
they  vied  with  each  other  in  their  efforts  at  sincerity ; 
and  when  the  carriage  set  them  down  at  their  own 
doors,  they  bade  each  other  a  cordial  good-night. 


THE    DECEPTION    OF    MR.    HUMMEL. 


337 


The  following  morning,  Mr.  Hummel  entered 
Laura's  private  room,  and  laid  a  blue  paper  upon  the 
table. 

"There  was  a  mistake  yesterday,"  he  said;  "here 
is  what  belongs  to  you." 

Laura  opened  the  paper  quickly ;  it  contained  an 
embroidered  handkerchief. 

"I  have  also  sent  back  the  gloves  to  the  Doctor, 
with  my  compliments,  informing  him  that  there  was  a 
misunderstanding,  and  that  I,  your  father,  Hummel, 
sent  him  what  was  his  own." 

"Father,"  cried  Laura,  going  up  to  him,  "this 
new  insult  was  unnecessary.  Upon  me  you  may  in- 
flict whatever  your  hatred  to  your  neighbors  prompts 
you  to  do,  but  that  you  should  again  wound  another 
after  what  has  happened  yesterday,  is  cruel  of  you.  This 
handkerchief  belongs  to  the  Doctor,  and  I  shall  give 
it  to  him  at  the  first  opportunity." 

"Exactly,"  said  Hummel;  "was  it  not  hemmed  and 
embroidered  by  your  own  hands?  You  are  responsible 
for  whatever  you  do  now.  But  you  know,  and  he 
knows  too,  how  I  feel  about  these  exchanges  of  civili- 
ties. If  you  choose  to  act  contrary  to  my  expressed 
wishes,  you  may.  I  will  not  consent  to  our  house  be- 
ing upon  terms  of  exchanging  presents,  either  small 
or  great,  with  the  Hahn's;  and  since  you,  as  I  hear, 
often  meet  the  Doctor  at  our  lodger's,  it  will  be  as  well 
for  you  to  bear  this  in  mind." 

He  went  out  of  the  room  complacently,  and  left  his 
daughter  in  revolt  against  his  harsh  commands.  She 
had  not  ventured  to  contradict  him,  for  he  was  un- 
usually calm  to-day,  different  from  his  ordinary  bluster- 
ing manner,  and  she  felt  there  was  a  meaning  in  his 


17 


338  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

words  that  checked  her  utterance  and  sent  the  blood  to 
her  cheeks.  It  was  a  stormy  morning  for  her  journal. 

Mr.  Hummel  was  busy  at  his  office  with  a  con- 
signment of  soldiers'  caps,  when  he  was  disturbed  by 
a  knock  at  the  door,  and  to  his  surprise,  Fritz  Hahn 
entered.  Hummel  remained  seated  with  dignity,  till 
his  caller  had  made  a  respectful  bow,  then  he  slowly 
rose,  and  began,  in  a  business  tone  : 

"What  can  I  do  for  you,  Doctor  ?  If  you  need  a 
fine  felt  hat,  as  I  presume  you  do,  the  salesroom  is  on 
the  floor  below." 

"  I  know  that,"  replied  the  Doctor,  politely.  "But 
I  am  come,  in  the  first  place,  to  thank  you  for  the 
handkerchief  you  so  kindly  selected  and  sent  me  as  a 
present  yesterday." 

"  That's  pretty  good  !  "  said  Hummel.  "  Old  Blii- 
cher  was  painted  upon  it  ;  he  is  a  countryman  of  mine, 
and  I  thought  on  that  account  the  handkerchief  would 
be  acceptable  to  you." 

"  Quite  right,"  answered  Fritz.  "I  shall  be  careful 
to  preserve  it  as  a  keepsake.  I  must,  at  the  same 
time,  add  to  my  thanks  the  request  that  you  will  de- 
liver these  gloves  to  Miss  Laura.  If  a  mistake  oc- 
curred yesterday  in  the  delivery,  as  you  kindly  in- 
formed me,  it  was  not  my  fault.  As  these  gloves  al- 
ready belong  to  your  daughter,  I,  of  course,  cannot 
take  them  back." 

"That's  better  still!"  said  Hummel,  "but  you 
are  in  error.  The  gloves  do  not  belong  to  my  daugh- 
ter ;  they  were  bought  by  you,  and  have  never  been 
seen  by  her  ;  and  early  this  morning  they  were  re- 
turned to  their  possessor." 

"  Pardon  me,"  rejoined  Fritz,  "  if  I  take  your  own 
words  as  testimony  against  you  ;  the  gloves  were  yes- 


THE    DECEPTION    OF    MR.     HUMMEL.  339 

terday,  according  to  the  custom  of  the  country,  sent 
as  a  present  to  Miss  Laura  ;  you  yourself  received 
them  from  the  hands  of  the  messenger,  and,  by  your 
words,  acknowledged  them.  The  gloves,  therefore, 
by  your  own  co-operation,  have  become  the  property 
of  the  young  lady,  and  I  have  no  claim  to  them." 

"No  advocate  could  put  the  case  in  a  better 
light, "  replied  Hummel  easily.  "There  is  only  one 
objection  to  it.  Th^se  gloves  were  non-apparent ; 
they  were  covered  with  paper  and  flowers,  like  frogs 
in  the  grass.  Had  you  come  to  me  openly  with  your 
gloves,  and  requested  to  be  allowed  to  give  them  to 
my  daughter,  I  should  have  told  you  yesterday  what 
I  now  say,  that  I  consider  you  a  worthy  young  man, 
and  that  I  have  no  objection  to  your  standing  as  god- 
father every  day  in  the  year,  but  I  do  very  much  ob- 
ject to  your  showing  my  daughter  what  hereabouts 
are  called  attentions.  I  am  not  kindly  disposed  to- 
wards your  family  and,  what  is  more,  I  do  not  wish 
to  be  ;  therefore  I  cannot  permit^  that  you  should  be 
so  towards  mine.  For  what  is  right  for  one  is  fitting 
for  the  other." 

"I  am  placed  again  in  the  unfortunate  predica- 
ment of  confuting  you  by  your  own  actions,"  rejoined 
the  Doctor.  "You,  yesterday,  honored  me  with  a 
mark  of  civility.  As  you  have  made  me  a  present  of 
a  handkerchief,  in  token  of  your  favor,  to  which,  as  I 
had  not  stood  godfather  with  you,  I  had  no  claim,  I 
also  may  say  that  what  is  right  for  one  is  fitting  for 
the  other.  Therefore  you  cannot  object  to  my  sending 
these  gloves  to  a  member  of  your  family." 

Mr.  Hummel  laughed.  "With  all  respect  to  you, 
Doctor,  you  have  forgotten  that  father  and  daughter 
are  not  quite  the  same  thing.  I  have  no  objection 


340  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

that  you  should  occasionally  make  me  a  present  if  you 
cannot  resist  the  inclination'  to  do  so  ;  I  shall  then 
consider  what  I  can  send  you  in  return ;  and  if  you 
think  that  these  gloves  will  suit  me,  I  will  keep  them 
as  a  token  of  reconciliation  between  us ;  and  if  ever 
we  should  stand  together  as  godfathers,  I  shall  put 
them  on  and  exhibit  them  for  your  benefit." 

"  I  have  delivered  them  to  you  as  the  property  of 
your  daughter,"  replied  Fritz,  with  composure;  "how 
you  may  dispose  of  them  I  cannot  decide.  You  know 
my  wishes." 

"Yes,  perfectly,  Doctor,"  assented  Hummel;  "the 
affair  is  now  settled  to  the  satisfaction  of  all  con- 
cerned, and  there  is  an  end  of  it." 

"  Not  quite  yet,"  replied  the  Doctor.  "What  now 
comes  is  a  demand  I  have  upon  you.  Miss  Laura,  as 
godmother  with  me,  prepared  and  sent  me  a  hand- 
kerchief. The  handkerchief  has  not  come  into  my 
hands,  but  I  have- undoubtedly  the  right  to  consider 
it  as  my  property,  and  I  beg  of  you  most  humbly  to 
send  it  to  me." 

"  Oho  !  "  cried  Hummel,  the  bear  beginning  to  stir 
within  him,  "that  looks  like  defiance,  and  must  be 
met  with  different  language.  You  shall  not  receive 
the  handkerchief  with  my  good  will ;  it  has  been  given 
back  to  my  daughter,  and  if  she  presents  it  to  you  she 
will  act  as  a  disobedient  child,  contrary  to  the  com- 
mands of  her  father." 

"Then  it  is  my  intention  to  oblige  you  to  recall 
this  prohibition,"  replied  the  Doctor,  energetically. 
"Yesterday  I  accidentally  discovered  that  you  ex- 
changed fhe  gloves  I  sent  to  Miss  Laura  for  others 
which  must  have  excited  in  her  the  belief  that  I  was 
an  impertinent  jester.  By  such  deceitful  and  injurious 


THE    DECEPTION    OF    MR.     HUMMEL.  341 

treatment  of  a  stranger,  even  though  he  were  an  ad- 
versary, you  have  acted  as  does  not  become  an  honor- 
able man." 

Hummel's  eyes  widened,  and  he  retreated  a  few 
steps. 

"Zounds  !  "  he  growled,  "is  it  possible  ?  Are  you 
your  father's  son?  Are  you  Fritz  Hahn,  the  young 
Humboldt?  Why  you  can  be  as  rude  as  a  boor." 

"  Only  where  it  is  necessary,"  replied  Fritz.  "  In 
my  conduct  towards  you  I  have  never  been  deficient 
in  delicacy  of  feeling  ;  but  you  have  treated  me  with 
injustice,  and  owe  me  due  satisfaction.  As  an  honor- 
able man  you  must  give  me  this,  and  my  satisfaction 
will  be  the  handkerchief." 

"  Enough,"  interrupted  Hummel,  raising  his  hand, 
"it  will  be  of  no  avail.  For,  between  ourselves,  I 
have  nothing  of  what  you  call  delicacy  of  feeling.  If 
you  feel  yourself  offended  by  me,  I  should  be  very 
sorry,  in  so  far  as  I  see  in  you  a  young  man  of  spirit, 
who  also  can  be  rude.  But  when,  on  the  other  hand, 
I  consider  that  you  are  Fritz  Hahn,  I  convince  myself 
that  it  is  quite  right  that  you  should  feel  aggrieved  by 
me.  With  that  you  must  rest  content." 

"What  you  say,"  replied  Fritz,  "is  not  only  un- 
civil, but  unjust.  I  leave  you,  therefore,  with  the 
feeling  that  you  owe  me  some  reparation  ;  and  this 
feeling  is,  at  all  events,  more  agreeable  to  me  than  if 
I  were  in  your  position." 

"I  see  we  understand  each  other  in  everything," 
replied  Hummel.  "  Like  two  business  men,  we  both 
seek  our  own  advantage.  It  is  agreeable  to  you  to  feel 
that  I  have  injured  you,  and  to  me  that  is  a  matter  of 
indifference.  So  let  it  remain,  Doctor;  we  are  at 


342  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

heart,  and  before  all  the  world,  enemies,  but  for  the 
rest,  all  respect  to  you. " 

The  Doctor  bowed  and  left  the  office. 

Mr.  Hummel  looked  meditatingly  on  the  spot  where 
the  Doctor  had  stood. 

He  was  during  the  whole  day  in  a  mild,  philan- 
thropic mood,  which  he  at  first  showed  by  philoso- 
phizing with  his  book-keeper. 

"  Have  you  ever  raised  bees?"'  he  asked  him,  over 
the  counter. 

"No,  Mr.  Hummel,"  replied  he;  "how  could  I 
manage  it?" 

"  You  are  not  very  enterprising,"  continued  Hum- 
mel, reproachfully.  "Why  should  you  not  give  your- 
self this  pleasure?" 

"  I  live  in  a  garret,  Mr.  Hummel." 

"  That  does  not  matter.  By  the  new  inventions 
you  may  keep  bees  in  a  tobacco-box.  You  put  the 
swarm  in,  open  the  window,  and  from  time  to  time 
cut  your  honey  out.  You  might  become  a  rich  man 
by  it.  You  will  say  that  these  insects  might  sting 
your  fellow-lodgers  and  neighbors;  do  not  mind  that; 
such  views  are  old-fashioned.  Follow  the  example 
of  certain  other  people,  who  place  their  bee-hives 
close  to  the  street  in  order  to  save  the  expense  for 
sugar." 

The  book-keeper  seemed  to  wish  to  comply  with 
this  proposition. 

"  If  you  mean "  he  replied  humbly. 

"  The  devil  I  mean,  sir,"  interrupted  Hummel; 
"  do  not  think  of  coming  to  my  office  with  a  swarm  of 
bees  in  your  pocket.  I  am  determined  under  no  cir- 
cumstances to  surfer  such  a  nuisance.  I  am  Bumble- 


THE    DECEPTION    OF    MR.     HUMMEL.  343 

bee  enough  for  this  street  and  I  object  to  all  hum- 
ming and  swarming  about  my  house  and  garden." 

In  the  afternoon,  when  he  was  taking  a  walk  in 
the  garden  with  his  wife  and  daughter,  he  suddenly 
stopped. 

"What  was  it  that  flew  through  the  air?" 

"  It  was  a  beetle,"  said  his  wife. 

"  It  was  a  bee,"  said  Hummel.  "Are  this  rabble 
beginning  to  fly  about.  If  there  is  anything  I  detest, 
it  is  bees.  Why  there  is  another.  They  annoy  you, 
Phillipine." 

"  I  cannot  say  so,"  she  replied. 

A  few  minutes  after,  a  bee  flew  about  Laura's  curls, 
and  she  was  obliged  to  protect  herself  with  a  parasol 
from  the  little  worker,  who  mistook  her  cheeks  for  a 
peach. 

"  It  is  strange;  they  were  not  so  numerous  for- 
merly," said  Hummel,  to  the  ladies;  "  it  seems  to  me 
that  a  swarm  of  bees  must  have  established  itself  in  a 
hollow  tree  of  the  park.  The  park-keeper  sleeps  out 
there  on  a  bench.  You  are  on  good  terms  with  the 
man;  call  his  attention  to  it.  The  vermin  are  insuf- 
ferable." 

Madam  Hummel  consented  to  make  inquiries,  and 
the  park-keeper  promised  to  look  to  it.  After  a  time 
he  came  to  the  hedge,  and  called  out,  in  a  low  voice: 

"  Madam  Hummel." 

"The  man  calls  you,"  said  Hummel. 

"  They  come  from  the  garden  of  Mr.  Hahn,"  re- 
ported the  park-keeper,  cautiously;  "  there  is  a  bee- 
hive there." 

"  Really?"  asked  Hummel.  "  Is  it  possible  that 
Hahn  should  have  chosen  this  amusement?" 

Laura  looked  at  her  father  anxiously. 


DC 


344 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


"  I  am  a  peaceful  man,  keeper,  and  I  cannot  be- 
lieve my  neighbor  would  do  us  such  an  injury." 

"  It  is  certain,  Mr.  Hummel,"  said  the  park-keeper; 
"  see,  there  is  one  of  the  yellow  things  now." 

"  That's  so,"  cried  Hummel,  shaking  his  head;  "it's 
yellow." 

"  Don't  mind,  Henry;  perhaps  it  will  not  be  so 
bad,"  said  his  wife,  soothingly. 

"  Not  so  bad?"  asked  Hummel,  angrily.  "  Shall  I 
have  to  see  the  bees  buzzing  around  your  nose?  Shall 
I  have  to  suffer  my  wife  to  go  about  the  whole  sum- 
mer with  her  nose  swollen  up  as  large  as  an  apple? 
Prepare  a  room  for  the  surgeon  immediately:  he  will 
never  be  out  of  our  house  during  the  next  month." 

Laura  approached  her  father. 

"  I  can  see  you  wish  to  begin  a  quarrel  anew  with 
our  neighbors:  if  you  love  me,  do  not  do  so.  I  cannot 
tell  you,  father,  how  much  this  quarreling  annoys  me. 
Indeed  I  have  suffered  too  much  from  it." 

"  I  believe  you,"  replied  Hummel,  cheerfully.  "But 
it  is  because  I  love  you  that  I  must  in  good  time  put 
an  end  to  this  annoyance  from  over  there,  before  these 
winged  nuisances  carry  away  honey  from  our  garden. 
I  don't  intend  to  have  you  attacked  by  the  bees  of 
any  of  our  neighbors,  do  you  understand  me?" 

Laura  turned  and  looked  gloomily  in  the  water, 
on  which  the  fallen  catkins  of  the  birch  were  swim- 
ming slowly  towards  the  town. 

"Do  something,  keeper,  to  preserve  peace  between 
neighbors,"  continued  Hummel.  "  Take  my  compli- 
ments to  Mr.  Hahn,  with  the  request  from  me  that  he 
will  remove  his  bees,  so  that  I  may  not  be  obliged  to 
call  in  the  police  again." 

"I  will  tell  him,  Mr.  Hummel,  that   the  bees  are 


THE"    DECEPTION    OF    MR.     HUMMEL.  345 

disagreeable  to  the  neighborhood;  for  it  is  true  the 
gardens  are  small." 

"  They  are  so  narrow  that  one  could  sell  them  in  a 
bandbox  at  a  Christmas  fair,"  assented  Hummel. 
"  Do  it  out  of  pity  to  the  bees  themselves.  Our  three 
daffodils  will  not  last  them  long  as  food,  and  after- 
wards there  will  be  nothing  for  them  but  to  gnaw  the 
iron  railings." 

He  gave  the  park-keeper  a  few  coppers,  and  ad- 
ded, to  his  wife  and  daughter: 

"  You  see  how  forbearing  I  am  to  our  neighbor, 
for  the  sake  of  peace." 

The  ladies  returned  to  the  house,  depressed  and 
full  of  sad  forebodings. 

As  the  park-keeper  did  not  appear  again,  Mr.  Hum- 
mel watched  for  him  on  the  following  day. 

"Well,  how  is  it?"  he  asked. 

"  Mr.  Hahn  thinks  that  the  hives  are  far  enough 
from  the  street;  they  are  behind  a  bush  and  they 
annoy  no  one.  He  will  not  give  up  his  rights." 

"  There  it  is!"  broke  out  Hummel.  "You  are  my 
witness  that  I  have  done  all  in  the  power  of  man  to 
avoid  a  quarrel.  The  fellow  has  forgotten  that  there 
is  a  Section  167.  I  am  sorry,  keeper;  but  the  police 
must  be  the  last  resort." 

Mr.  Hummel  conferred  confidentially  with  a  po- 
liceman. Mr.  Hahn  became  excited  and  angry  when 
he  was  ordered  to  appear  in  court,  but  Hummel  had 
in  some  measure  the  best  of  it,  for  the  police  advised 
Mr.  Hahn  to  avoid  annoyance  to  the  neighbours  and 
passers-by  by  the  removal  of  the  hive.  Mr.  Hahn 
had  taken  great  pleasure  in  his  bees;  their  hive  had 
been  fitted  with  all  the  new  improvements,  and  they 
were  not  like  our  irritable  German  bees;  they  were  an 


346  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

Italian  sort,  which  only  sting  when  provoked  to  the 
utmost.  But  this  was  all  of  no  avail,  for  even  the 
Doctor  and  his  mother  herself  begged  that  the  hives 
might  be  removed;  so,  one  dark  night  they  were  car- 
ried away,  with  bitter  and  depressed  feelings,  into  the 
country.  In  the  place  which  they  had  occupied  he 
erected  some  starlings'  nests  on  poles.  They  were  a 
poor  comfort.  The  starlings  had,  according  to  old 
customs,  sent  messengers  of  their  race  through  the 
country  and  hired  their  summer  dwellings,  and  only  the 
sparrows  took  exulting  possession  of  the  abode,  and 
like  disorderly  householders,  left  long  blades  of  grass 
hanging  from  their  nests.  Mr.  Hummel  shrugged  his 
shoulders  contemptuously,  and  in  a  loud  bass  voice, 
called  the  new  invention  the  sparrow  telegraph. 

The  garden  amusements  had  begun;  the  sad  prog- 
nostication had  become  a  reality;  suspicion  and  gloomy 
looks  once  more  divided  the  neighboring  houses. 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 
CLOUDLETS. 

A  Professor's  wife  has  much  to  bear  with  her  hus- 
band. When  Use  found  herself  seated  with  her 
friends,  the  wives  of  Professors  Raschke,  Struvelius, 
and  Giinther,  over  a  cozy  cup  of  coffee,  which  was  by 
no  means  slighted,  all  manner  of  things  came  to 
light. 

Conversation  with  these  cultured  ladies  was  in- 
deed delightful.  It  first  touched  lightly  on  the  sub- 
ject of  servants,  and  the  troubles  of  housekeeping 
called  forth  a  volubility  of  chatter,  like  the  croaking 
of  frogs  in  a  pond,  and  Use  wondered  that  even  Flamina 
Struvelius  should  express  herself  so  earnestly  on  the 
subject  of  pickling  gherkins,  and  that  she  should 


CLOUDLETS. 


347 


anxiously  inquire  as  to  the  marks  of  age  on  a  plucked 
goose.  Merry  Mrs.  Giinther  shocked  the  ladies 
of  greater  experience  and  at  the  same  time  made 
them  laugh,  when  she  told  them  she  could  not  bear 
the  cry  of  little  children,  and  that  as  to  her  own — of 
which  she  had  none  yet — she  would  from  the  begin- 
ning train  them  to  quiet  habits  with  the  rod.  As  has 
been  said,  the  conversation  rambled  from  greater 
matters  to  small  talk  like  this.  And  amidst  other 
trivial  remarks  it  naturally  happened  that  men  were 
quietly  discussed,  and  it  was  evident  that,  although 
the  remarks  were  made  as  to  men  in  general,  each 
thought  of  her  own  husband,  and  each,  without  ex- 
pressing it,  thought  of  the  secret  load  of  cares  she  had 
to  bear,  and  each  one  convinced  her  hearers  that  her 
own  individual  husband  was  also  difficult  to  manage. 
The  lot  of  Mrs.  Raschke  was  indeed  not  to  be  con- 
cealed, as  it  was  notorious  throughout  the  whole 
town.  It  was  well  known  that  one  market-day  her 
husband  went  to  the  lecture-room  in  a  brilliant  orange 
and  blue  dressing-gown,  of  a  Turkish  pattern.  And 
the  collegians,  who  loved  him  dearly  and  knew  his 
habits  well,  could  not  suppress  a  loud  laugh,  while 
Raschke  hung  his  dressing-gown  quietly  over  the 
reading-desk  and  began  to  lecture  in  his  shirt  sleeves, 
and  returned  home  in  the  great-coat  of  a  student. 
Since  then  Mrs.  Raschke  never  let  him  go  out  without 
looking  after  him  herself.  It  also  transpired  that  after 
living  ten  years  in  the  town  he  constantly  lost  his  way, 
and  she  did  not  dare  to  change  her  residence,  being 
convinced  that  if  she  did,  the  Professor  would  always 
be  going  back  to  his  old  abode.  Struvelius  also  gave 
trouble.  The  last  affair  of  importance  had  come  to 
Use's  personal  knowledge;  but  it  was  also  known  that 


348 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


he  required  his  wife  to  correct  the  proof-sheets  of  his 
Latin  writings,  as  she  had  a  slight  knowledge  of  the 
language — and  that  he  could  not  resist  giving  orders 
to  traveling  wine  merchants.  Mrs.  Struvelius,  after 
her  marriage,  found  her  cellar  full  of  large  and  small 
casks  of  wine,  which  had  as  yet  not  been  bottled, 
while  he  himself  complained  bitterly  that  he  could  not 
replenish  his  stock.  And  even  little  Mrs.  Giinther 
related  that  her  husband  could  not  give  up  working 
at  night;  and  that  on  one  occasion,  poking  about  with 
a  lamp  amongst  the  books,  he  came  too  close  to  a 
curtain,  which  caught  fire,  and  on  pulling  it  down  he 
burnt  his  hands,  and  rushed  into  the  bedroom  with 
his  fingers  black  as  coals,  more  like  an  Othello  than. 
a  mineralogist. 

Use  related  nothing  of  her  short  career,  but  she 
had  also  had  some  experience.  True,  her  husband 
was  very  good  about  working  at  night,  was  very  dis- 
creet over  his  wine,  though  on  great  occasions  he 
drank  his  glass  bravely,  as  became  a  German  Pro- 
fessor. But  as  to  his  eating,  matters  were  very  unsatis- 
factory. Certainly  it  does  not  do  to  care  too  much 
about  food,  especially  for  a  Professor,  but  not  to  be 
able  to  distinguish  a  duck  from  a  goose  is  rather  dis- 
couraging for  her  who  has  striven  to  procure  him  a 
a  dainty.  As  for  carving  he  was  useless.  The  tough 
Stymphalian  birds  which  Hercules  destroyed,  and  the 
ungenial  Phoenix,  mentioned  with  such  respect  by  his 
Tacitus,  were  much  better  known  to  him  than  the 
form  of  a  turkey.  Use  was  not  one  of  those  women 
who  delight  to  spend  the  whole  day  in  the  kitchen, 
but  she  understood  cooking,  and  prided  herself  on 
giving  a  dinner  worthy  of  her  husband.  But  all  was 
in  vain.  He  sometimes  tried  to  praise  the  dishes,  but 


CLOUDLETS. 


349 


Use  clearly  saw  that  he  was  not  sincere.  Once  when 
she  set  a  splendid  pheasant  before  him,  he  saw  by  her 
expression  that  she  expected  some  remark,  so  he 
praised  the  cook  for  having  secured  such  a  fine 
chicken.  Use  sighed  and  tried  to  make  him  under- 
stand the  difference,  but  had  to  be  content  with  Ga- 
briel's sympathizing  remark:  "It's  all  useless.  I  know 
my  master;  he  can't  tell  one  thing  frorn  another!" 
Since  then,  Use  had  to  rest  content  with  the  compli- 
ments that  the  gentlemen  invited  to  tea  paid  her  at 
the  table.  But  this  was  no  compensation.  The  Doc- 
tor also  was  not  remarkable  for  his  acquirements  in 
this  direction.  It  was  lamentable  and  humiliating  to 
see  the  two  gentlemen  over  a  brace  of  snipes  which 
her  father  had  sent  them  from  the  country. 

The  Professor,  however,  looked  up  to  the  Doctor 
as  a  thoroughly  practical  man,  because  he  had  had 
some  experience  in  buying  and  managing,  and  the 
former  was  accustomed  to  call  in  his  friend  as  an  ad- 
viser on  many  little  daily  occurrences.  The  tailor 
brought  samples  of  cloth  for  a  new  coat.  The  Pro- 
fessor looked  at  the  various  colors  of  the  samples  in  a 
distracted  manner.  "Use,  send  for  the  Doctor  to 
help  me  make  a  choice!"  Use  sent,  but  unwillingly; 
no  Doctor  was  needed,  she  thought,  to  select  a  coat, 
and  if  her  dear  husband  could  not  make  up  his  mind, 
was  not  she  there?  But  that  was  of  no  avail;  the 
Doctor  selected  the  coat,  waistcoat,  and  the  rest  of 
the  Professor's  wardrobe.  Use  listened  to  the  orders 
in  silence,  but  she  was  really  angry  with  the  Doctor, 
and  even  a  little  with  her  husband.  She  quietly  de- 
termined that  things  should  not  continue  so.  She 
hastily  calculated  her  pocket-money,  called  the  tailor 
into  her  room,  and  ordered  a  second  suit  for  her  hus- 


35° 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


band,  with  the  injunction  to  make  this  one  first. 
When  the  tailor  brought  the  clothes  home,  she  asked 
her  husband  how  he  liked  the  new  suit.  He  praised 
it.  Then  she  said:  "To  please  you  I  make  myself  as 
nice-looking  as  I  can:  for  my  sake  wear  what  I  have 
made  for  you.  If  I  have  succeeded  this  time,  I  hope 
that  I  may  in  future  choose  and  be  responsible  for 
your  wardrobe." 

But  the  Doctor  looked  quite  amazed  when  he  met 
the  Professor  in  a  different  suit.  It  so  happened, 
however,  that  he  had  nothing  to  find  fault  with;  and 
when  Use  was  sitting  alone  with  the  Doctor,  she 
began  — 

"  Both  of  us  love  my  husband;  therefore  let  us 
come  to  some  agreement  about  him.  You  have  the 
greatest  right  to  be  the  confidant  of  his  labors,  and  I 
should  never  venture  to  place  myself  on  an  equality 
with  you  respecting  them.  But  where  my  judgment 
is  sufficient  I  may  at  least  be  useful  to  him,  and  what 
little  I  can,  dear  Doctor,  pray  allow  me  to  do." 

She  said  this  with  a  smile;  but  the  Doctor  walked 
gravely  up  to  her. 

"  You  are  expressing  what  I  have  long  felt.  I 
have  lived  with  him  for  many  years,  and  have  often 
lived  for  him,  and  that  was  a  time  of  real  happiness 
to  me;  but  now  I  fully  recognize  that  it  is  you  who 
have  the  best  claim  to  him.  1  shall  have  to  endeavor 
to  control  myself  in  many  things;  it  will  be  hard  for 
me,  but  it  is  better  it  should  be  so." 

"  My  words  were  not  so  intended,"  said  Use,  dis- 
turbed. 

"  I  well  understand  what  you  meant;  and  I  know 
also  that  you  are  perfectly  right.  Your  task  is  not 
alone  to  make  his  life  comfortable.  I  see  how  earn- 


A 


CLOUDLETS. 


351 


estly  you  strive  to  become  his  confidant.  Believe  me, 
the  warmest  wish  of  my  heart  is  that  in  time  you 
should  succeed." 

He  left  with  an  earnest  farewell,  and  Use  saw  how 
deeply  moved  he  was.  The  Doctor  had  touched  a 
chord,  the  vibration  of  which,  midst  all  her  happiness, 
she  felt  with  pain.  Her  household  affairs  gave  her 
little  trouble,  and  all  went  so  smoothly  that  she  took 
no  credit  to  herself  for  her  management.  But  still  it 
pained  her  to  see  how  little  her  work  was  appreciated 
by  her  husband,  and  she  thought  to  herself,  "What  I 
am  able  to  do  for  him  makes  no  impression  on  him, 
and  when  I  cannot  elevate  my  mind  to  his,  he  probably 
feels  the  want  of  a  soul  that  can  understand  him 
better." 

These  were  transient  clouds  which  swept  over  the 
sunny  landscape,  but  they  came  again  and  again  as 
Use  sat  brooding  alone  in  her  room. 

One  evening,  Professor  Raschke  having  looked  in 
late,  showed  himself  disposed  to  pass  the  evening 
with  them,  and  Felix  sent  the  servant  to  the  Professor's 
wife,  to  set  her  mind  at  rest  as  to  the  absence  of  her 
husband.  As  Raschke,  among  all  her  husband's  col- 
leagues, was  Use's  favorite,  she  took  pains  to  order 
something  that  would  please  him.  This  order  doomed 
to  death  some  chickens  that  shortly  before  had  been 
brought  in  alive.  The  gentlemen  were  sitting  in  Use's 
room  when  a  dreadful  scream  and  clamor  issued  from  the 
kitchen,  and  the  cook,  pale  as  death,  opened  the  door 
and  appealed  to  her  mistress.  It  appeared  that  the 
girl's  heart  failed  her  in  attempting  to  kill  the  fowls 
and  as  Gabriel,  who  had  hitherto  performed  all  such 
necessary  slaughter,  was  absent,  she  did  not  know 
what  to  do,  so  Use  herself  had  to  perform  the  indis- 


5: 


352 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


pensable  act.  When  she  returned,  Felix  unfortunately 
asked  why  she  had  left  the  room,  and  Use  told  him 
what  had  occurred. 

The  chickens  were  placed  upon  the  table  and  did  the 
cook  no  discredit.  Use  carved  and  served  them,  but 
her  husband  pushed  back  his  plate,  whilst  Raschke, 
out  of  politeness,  picked  at  the  breast,  but  forbore  to 
eat  a  morsel.  Use  regarded  the  two  gentlemen  with 
astonishment. 

"  You  do  not  eat  anything,  Professor?"  she  at  last 
said  to  her  guest,  anxiously. 

"  It  is  only  a  morbid  weakness,"  replied  Raschke, 
"  and  it's  very  foolish  indeed,  but  the  screams  of  the 
poor  bird  still  linger  in  my  ear." 

"And  in  yours,  too,  Felix?"  asked  Use,  with  in- 
creasing wonderment. 

"  Yes,"  rejoined  he.  "Is  it  not  possible  to  have 
these  things  done  quietly?" 

"  Not  always,"  answered  Use,  mortified,  "  when 
the  house  is  so  small,  and  the  kitchen  so  near."  She 
rang  and  ordered  the  ill-fated  dish  to  be  taken  away. 
"Those  who  can't  bear  things  to  be  killed  should  eat 
no  meat." 

"You  are  quite  right,"  replied  Raschke,  submis- 
sively, "and  our  sensitiveness  has  but  little  justifica- 
tion. We  find  the  preparations  unpleasant,  yet  as  a 
rule  we  are  well  satisfied  with  the  result.  But  when 
one  is  accustomed  to  observe  animal  life  with  sym- 
pathy, he  is  necessarily  shocked  at  the  sudden  termina- 
tion of  an  organism  for  his  own  selfish  purposes,  when 
it  is  done  in  a  way  to  which  he  is  not  accustomed. 
For  the  whole  life  of  an  animal  is  full  of  mystery  to 
us.  The  same  vital  power  which  we  observe  in  our- 
selves, is  fundamentally  at  work  with  them,  only 


Ox: 


CLOUDLETS. 


353 


limited  by  a  less  complicated,  and,  on  the  whole,  less 
complete  organization." 

"  How  can  you  compare  their  souls  with  that  of 
man's?"  asked  Use;  "  the  irrational,  with  the  rational; 
the  transitory  with  the  eternal?" 

"As  to  irrational,  my  dear  lady,  it  is  a  word  to 
which  in  this  case  one  does  not  attach  a  very  clear 
meaning.  What  the  difference  may  be  between  man 
and  beast  is  difficult  to  decide,  and  on  this  subject  a 
little  modesty  becomes  us.  We  know  but  little  of 
animals,  even  of  those  who  pass  their  lives  among  us. 
And  I  confess  that  the  attempt  to  fathom  this  un- 
known problem  fills  me  with  awe  and  reverence,  which 
occasionally  rises  into  fear.  I  cannot  bear  that  any 
one  who  belongs  to  me  should  grow  fond  of  an  animal. 
This  arises  from  a  weakness  of  feeling  which  I  own  is 
sentimental.  But  the  influence  of  the  human  mind  on 
animals  has  always  seemed  to  me  wonderful  and 
weird  ;  phases  of  their  life  are  developed,  which  in 
certain  directions  make  them  very  similar  to  man. 
Their  affectionate  devotion  to  us  has  something  so 
touching  in  it,  that  we  are  disposed  to  bestow  much 
more  love  on  them  than  is  good  either  for  them  or 
us." 

"  Still  an  animal  remains  what  it  was  from  the 
creation,"  said  Use  ;  "unchanged  in  its  habits  and  in- 
clinations. We  can  train  a  bird,  and  make  a  dog 
fetch  and  carry  what  he  would  rather  eat,  but  that  is 
only  an  outward  compulsion.  If  let  to  themselves, 
their  nature  and  manners  remain  unaltered,  and  what 
we  call  culture  they  lack  utterly." 

"Even  upon  that  point  we  are  by  no  means  sure," 
rejoined  Raschke.  "  We  do  not  know  but  that  each 
race  of  animals  has  a  history  and  an  evolution 


354  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

which  extends  from  the  earliest  generation  to  the 
present.  It  is  not  at  all  impossible  that  acquirements 
and  knowledge  of  the  world,  so  far,  as  they  may  exist 
in  animals,  have  acted  among  them,  though  in  a  nar- 
rower sphere,  just  as  with  men.  It  is  quite  an  assump- 
tion that  birds  sang  just  the  same  way  a  thousand 
years  ago  as  they  do  now.  I  believe  that  the  wolf  and 
the  lynx,  in  cultivated  regions,  stand  on  the  same 
footing  in  the  struggle  for  life  as  do  the  remnants  of 
the  red  Indians  among  the  whites;  whilst  those  ani- 
mals that  live  in  comparative  peace  with  man,  like 
sparrows  and  other  small  creatures,  and  bees  especi- 
ally, improve  in  their  mode  of  work,  and  in  the  course 
of  time  make  progress — progress  which  we  in  some 
cases  surmise,  but  which  our  science  has  not  yet  been 
able  to  describe." 

"  Our  forester  would  quite  agree  with  you  in  this," 
said  Use,  quietly;  "as  he  complains  bitterly  that  the 
bullfinches  of  our  neighborhood  have,  within  his 
memory,  quite  deteriorated  in  their  singing,  because 
all  the  good  singers  have  been  caught,  and  the  young 
birds  have  no  one  to  teach  them." 

"Exactly,"  said  Raschke;  "among  animals  of 
every  species  there  are  clever  and  stupid  individuals, 
and  it  must  follow  that  to  some  of  them  is  assigned 
a  definite  spiritual  mission  which  extends  far  beyond 
their  own  life.  And  the  experience  of  an  old  raven, 
or  the  enchanting  notes  of  a  melodious  nightingale, 
are  not  lost  on  the  future  generations  of  their  race, 
but  influence  them  continuously.  In  this  sense  we 
may  well  speak  of  culture  and  continued  improve- 
ment among  animals.  But  as  regards  the  cooking,  I 
admit  that  we  exhibited  our  sympathies  at  the  wrong 


CLOUDLETS.  355 

time  and  place,  and  I  hope  you  are  not  angry  with  us, 
dear  friend." 

"It  shall  all  be  forgotten  now,"  replied  Use,  "I 
will  give  you  boiled  eggs  the  next  time;  they  will  in- 
volve no  scruples." 

"  The  egg,  too,  has  its  story,"  answered  Raschke; 
"but  for  the  present,  I  may  fitly  waive  discussing 
this.  What  has  brought  me  here,"  addressing  Felix, 
earnestly,  "was  neither  fowls  nor  eggs,  but  our  col- 
league, Struvelius.  I  am  seeking  forgiveness  for 
him." 

Felix  drew  himself  up  stiffly.  "  Has  he  commis- 
sioned you  to  come?" 

"Not  exactly;  but  it  is  the  wish  of  some  of  our  col- 
leagues. You  know  that  next  year  we  require  an  en- 
ergetic Rector.  Some  of  our  acquaintance  are  speak- 
ing of  you.  Struvelius  will  probably  be  Deacon,  and 
for  this  reason  we  wish  to  bring  you  into  friendly  re- 
lations; and  still  more  for  the  sake  of  peace  at  the 
University.  We  regret  exceedingly  to  see  our  classi- 
cists at  variance." 

"What  the  man  has  done  to  me,"  replied  the  Pro- 
fessor, proudly,  "I  can  easily  forgive,  although  his 
mean  and  underhand  conduct  has  deeply  offended 
me.  I  feel  much  more  seriously  the  effect  of  his  fool- 
ish work  upon  himself  and  our  University.  What 
separates  me  from  him  is  the  dishonesty  of  spirit  that 
has  actuated  his  conduct." 

"  The  expression  is  too  strong,"  cried  Raschke. 

"  It  applies  to  his  behavior  exactly,"  returned  the 
Professor.  "When  the  forgery  was  pointed  out  to 
him,  his  fear  of  humiliation  was  greater  than  his  love 
of  truth,  and  he  lied  in  order  to  deceive  others — con- 


[? 


356  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

duct  unworthy  of  a  German  professor,  and  I  can 
never  forgive  it." 

"Again  you  are  too  severe,"  replied  Raschke;  "he 
has  frankly  and  loyally  admitted  his  'error." 

"He  did  so  only  when  Magister  Knips  and  others 
clearly  proved  the  forgery  that  had  been  committed 
in  the  manuscript,  and  so  made  any  further  evasion 
impossible." 

"  Human  feelings  are  not  so  easy  to  analyze  as 
numbers  are,"  rejoined  Raschke;  "  and  only  he  who 
judges  charitably,  judges  rightly.  He  struggled  with 
wounded  pride  perhaps  too  long,  but  he  gave  in  at 
last." 

"  I  tolerate  no  unknown  quantity  in  the  sense  of 
honor  of  a  scientist;  the  question  here  was:  Black 
or  white?  Truth  or  falsehood?" 

"  You  have,  nevertheless,"  said  Use,  "  shown  the 
Magister  much  greater  leniency,  and  I  have  seen  him 
with  you  since,  more  than  once." 

"The  Magister  was  less  to  blame  in  the  matter," 
her  husband  replied.  "  When  the  question  was 
clearly  before  him,  he  employed  his  acuteness  to  some 
purpose." 

"  He  took  money  for  it,"  said  Use. 

"He  is  a  poor  devil,  accustomed,  as  a  broker,  to 
take  his  profits  on  any  exchange  of  antiquities,  and 
no  one  would  expect  in  such  a  transaction  that  he 
should  act  like  a  gentleman.  So  far  as  his  oppressed 
spirit  belongs  to  science,  it  is  not  without  a  sort  of 
manly  pride;  and  I  have  the  warmest  sympathy  for  a 
nature  of  that  kind.  His  life  on  the  whole  is  a  con- 
tinual martyrdom  to  the  interests  of  others;  and  when 
I  employ  such  a  man,  I  know  exactly  how  far  to  trust 
him." 


CLOUDLETS.  ^c, 

J57 

"Do  not  deceive  yourself  in  that!"  cried  Raschke. 

"  I  shall  take  the  risk  and  the  responsibility,"  re- 
plied the  Professor.  "  But  have  done  with  the  Ma- 
gister — it  is  not  he  who  is  in  question.  When  I  com- 
pare his  offense  with  that  of  Struvelius,  there  is  no 
doubt  in  my  mind  as  to  who  has  shown  the  greater 
deficiency  in  sense  of  honor. 

"This  again  is  so  unjust,"  cried  Raschke,  "that 
I  cannot  listen  to  such  expressions  in  the  absence  of 
my  colleague.  It  is  with  deep  regret  that  I  miss  in 
you  the  candor  and  dispassionate  impartiality  which 
I  consider  to  be  unreservedly  demanded  in  judging  a 
fellow-professor." 

"  You  yourself  told  me,"  replied  Felix,  more  quietly, 
"  that  he  promised  silence  to  the  trader,  because  the  lat- 
ter had  held  out  the  prospect  of  obtaining  other  secret 
parchments.  How  can  you,  after  such  an  exhibition 
of  selfishness,  find  a  word  to  say  in  his  defense?" 

"It  is  true  he  did  so,"  replied  Raschke,  "and 
therein  was  his  weakness?" 

"  Therein  was  his  dishonesty,"  said  the  Professor, 
"  and  that  I  shall  never  condone.  Whoever  thinks 
otherwise,  may  shake  his  hand  in  approbation  of  his 
conduct." 

Raschke  rose.  "If  your  words  mean  that  he  who 
grasps  the  hand  of  Struvelius  in  pardon  for  what  he 
has  done,  has  lost  in  character  and  self-respect,  I  re- 
ply to  you  that  I  am  the  man,  and  that  this  act  of 
mine  has  never  lessened  my  sense  of  dignity  nor  hu- 
miliated me  in  my  own  eyes.  I  entertain  the  highest 
respect  for  your  pure  and  manly  feelings,  which  I 
have  ever  deemed  exemplary;  but  I  must  now  tell  you, 
that  I  am  not  satisfied  with  you.  If  this  obduracy  has 
come  upon  you  merely  because  Struvelius  has  per- 


358 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


sonally  offended  you,  you  are  violating  the  standard 
which  we  are  ever  in  duty  bound  to  observe  in  judging 
our  fellow  men." 

"  Let  it  not  be  observed  then!"  exclaimed  the  Pro- 
fessor. "I  recognize  no  standard  of  leniency  when  I 
have  to  do  with  the  demands  which  I  make  upon  the 
sense  of  honor  and  propriety  in  my  personal  acquaint- 
ances. It  affects  me  deeply  that  you  are  opposed 
to  me  in  this  way  of  thinking;  but  such  as  I  am,  an 
erring  and  imperfect  mortal,  I  cannot  moderate  these 
claims  upon  those  about  me. 

"Let  me  hope  then,"  broke  in  Raschke,  "that  it 
will  never  be  your  misfortune  to  have  to  confess  to 
others  that  you  have  been  deceived  by  an  impostor  in 
the  very  matter  wherein  your  consciousness  of  self- 
reliance  has  been  so  strongly  aroused.  For  he  who 
judges  others  so  proudly,  would  suffer  no  small  afflic- 
tion in  the  confession  of  his  own  shortsightedness." 

"Yes,  that  would  be  fearful  for  me,"  said  Felix, 
to  involve  others  in  error  and  falsehood  against  my 
will.  But  trust  me,  to  atone  for  such  a  wrong  I  would 
use  all  my  life  and  strength.  Meanwhile,  between 
that  man  and  me  the  gulf  will  remain  as  dark  as  ever." 

Raschke  shoved  back  his  chair.  "  I  must  go,  then) 
for  our  discussion  has  so  excited  me  that  I  should 
make  a  very  unentertaining  companion.  It  is  the  first 
time,  my  dear  lady,  that  I  have  ever  left  this  house 
with  any  feeling  of  unpleasantness;  and  it  is  not  my 
least  annoyance,  that  my  untimely  advocacy  of  the 
existence  of  souls  in  poultry  made  me  bristle  up  my 
crest  against  you  also." 

Use  regarded  the  excited  countenance  of  the 
worthy  man  with  pain,  and,  in  order  to  soothe  him 
and  restore  the  old  friendly  relations,  she  said  to  him, 


CLOUDLETS. 

coaxingly:  "But  you  shall  not  escape  the  poor 
chicken,  you'll  have  to  eat  it,  and  I  shall  take  care 
that  your  wife  gives  it  to  you  to-morrow  morning  for 
breakfast." 

Raschke  pressed  her  hand,  and  rushed  out  through 
the  door.  The  Professor  walked  up  and  down  the 
room  in  agitation,  and  then  stopping  before  his  wife 
said,  abruptly,  "Was  I  in  the  wrong?" 

"I  don't  know,"  replied  Use,  hesitating;  "but 
when  our  friend  spoke  to  you,  all  my  feelings  went 
with  him,  and  I  felt  that  he  was  right." 

"You,  too!"  said  the  Professor,  moodily.  He 
turned  on  his  heel  and  went  into  his  study. 

Use  once  more  sat  alone  with  a  heavy  heart,  and 
she  murmered,  "In  many  things  he  looks  on  life  very 
differently  from  what  I  do.  Towards  animals  he  is 
kinder,  and  towards  men  sometimes  harsher  than  I 
am.  Strive  as  I  may,  I  shall  always  be  to  him  an 
awkward  country  lass.  He  was  kind  to  Madam 
Rollmaus,  and  will  be  so  towards  me;  but  he  will  ever 
have  to  make  allowances  for  me." 

She  sprung  from  her  chair  with  a  burning  face. 

In  the  meantime  Raschke  was  roving  about  in  the 
anteroom;  there  too  disorder  prevailed.  Gabriel  had 
not  returned  from  his  distant  errand,  and  the  cook  had 
put  all  the  dinner  things  upon  a  side-table  till  his  re- 
turn, and  Raschke  had  to  look  for  his  own  great-coat. 
He  groped  among  the  clothes  and  seized  a  coat  and 
a  hat.  As  to-day  he  was  not  as  absent-minded  as 
usual,  a  glance  at  the  rejected  meal  reminded  him  of 
the  fact  that  he  had  to  eat  a  chicken,  as  enjoined  by 
Use.  He,  therefore,  seized  a  newspaper  which  Ga- 
briel had  carefully  laid  out  for  his  master,  took  the 
chicken  from  the  dish,  wrapped  it  up  in  the  paper,  and 


360  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

deposited  it  in  his  pocket,  the  depth  and  capacity  of 
which  agreeably  surprised  him.  Rushing  past  the 
astonished  cook  he  left  the  house.  On  opening  the 
front  door  he  stumbled  over  something  on  the  thresh- 
old, and  heard  a  fearful  growl  behind  him  as  he  hur- 
ried down  the  steps  into  the  open  air. 

The  words  of  the  friend  whose  house  he  had  just 
left,  still  rung  in  his  ear.  Werner's  whole  bearing  had 
been  very  characteristic,  and  his  nature  was  a  strong 
one.  Strange,  that  in  a  moment  of  anger  his  face  had 
suddenly  assumed  a  likeness  to  that  of  a  Danish  dog. 
Here  the  philosopher's  chain  of  ideas  was  broken  by 
the  sudden  recollection  of  the  talk  about  animal  souls. 

"It  is  indeed  to  be  deplored  that  it  is  still  so  dif- 
ficult to  determine  the  significance  of  expression  as 
revealing  the  animal  soul.  If  success  attended  our 
efforts  here,  science  too  would  gain  by  it.  If  the  ex- 
pressions and  gestures  exhibited  in  moments  of  pas- 
sion by  man  and  the  higher  animals  could  be  com- 
pared and  collated  in  every  detail,  important  and  in- 
teresting inferences  might  be  drawn,  both  from  that 
Which  they  manifested  in  common  and  from  that 
wherein  they  differed.  For,  in  this  way,  the  true  na- 
ture and  purport  of  their  dramatic  actions,  and  prob- 
ably new  laws  governing  the  same,  might  be  ascer- 
tained." 

Whilst  the  philosopher  was  thus  meditating,  he 
felt  a  repeated  tugging  at  the  end  of  his  overcoat.  As 
his  wife  was  accustomed,  when  he  was  wrapt  in 
thought,  to  nudge  him  gently  if  he  met  a  friend,  he 
paid  no  attention,  but  took  off  his  hat  politely  to  the 
post  on  the  bridge,  and  said,  "  Good  evening." 

"  The  common  character  and  origin  of  mimical  ex- 
pression in  man  and  the  higher  animals  might,  per- 


CLOUDLETS. 


361 


haps,  if  fully  known,  give  us  glimpses  into  the  great 
secret  of  life."  Again  something  pulled  him.  Raschke 
mechanically  lifted  his  hat.  Another  tug.  "No  more, 
dear  Aurelia,  I  have  taken  my  hat  off."  It  then  oc- 
curred to  him  that  it  could  not  be  his  wife  who  was 
pulling  so  low  down  at  his  coat.  It  must  be  his  little 
daughter  Bertha,  who  occasionally  walked  with  him, 
and,  just  like  .her  mother,  would  also  nudge  him 
gently  when  he  had  to  bow  to  any  one.  "  Very  well, 
dear  child,"  said  he,  as  Bertha  kept  continually  pull- 
ing at  his  hind  coat  pocket,  and  he  put  his  hand  be- 
hind him  to  catch  the  little  teazer.  He  caught  hold 
of  something  round  and  shaggy,  and  at  once  felt  the 
sharp  edges  of  teeth  in  his  fingers,  which  made  him 
turn  round  with  a  start.  He  then  saw,  by  the  lamp- 
light, a  red,  brindled  monster,  with  a  great  head  and 
bristly  hair,  and  a  tuft  instead  of  a  tail.  It  was  an 
awful  transformation  of  wife  and  daughter,  and  he 
stared  with  amazement  at  this  mysterious  being,  that 
stood  opposite  to  him,  likewise  regarding  him  in  si- 
lence. 

"A  remarkable  meeting,"  cried  Raschke.  "What 
art  thou,  unknown  beast  —  presumably  a  dog?  "  Get 
away  with  thee!  "  The  animal  slunk  back  a  few  paces, 
and  Raschke  pursued  his  inquiry  further.  "  If  the 
facial  expression  and  the  gesticulation  attendant  upon 
emotion  could  be  thus  referred  and  traced  back  to 
original  and  common  forms,  the  instinctive  tendency 
to  appropriate  and  to  adapt  what  is  foreign  would  un 
doubtedly  result  as  one  of  the  most  universal  and  ef- 
fective of  laws.  It  would  be  instructive  from  the  in- 
voluntary actions  of  men  and  animals  to  ascertain  that 
which  naturally  belonged  to  each  species  and  that 
which  each  had  acquired.  Get  away,  dog;  —  home 


362  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

with  you,  I  say!  What  is  he  after,  anyway?  He  is 
apparently  one  of  Werner's  people.  The  poor  brute  is 
possessed  of  some  overpowering  idea  and  will  lose  his 
way  running  about  the  city!  " 

In  the  meantime,  Spitehahn's  attacks  had  become 
more  violent,  and  he  at  last  dropped  into  a  ludicrous 
march  upon  his  hind  legs,  while,  placing  his  forefeet 
on  the  Professor's  back,  he  buried  his  nose  in  the 
latter's  coat-pocket. 

Raschke's  interest  in  the  thoughts  of  the  dog  in- 
creased. He  stopped  by  a  lamp-post  and  carefully  ex- 
amined his  overcoat.  He  found  that  it  possessed  a  cape 
and  long  sleeves,  which  the  philosopher  had  never  ob- 
served before  on  his  own  coat.  The  matter  was  now 
clear:  he  had  thoughtlessly  taken  the  wrong  coat,  and 
the  honest  dog  meant  to  preserve  his  master's  ward- 
robe, and  to  make  the  thief  restore  it.  Raschke  was 
so  pleased  with  the  dog's  cleverness,  that  he  turned 
round  and  spoke  coaxingly  to  Spitehahn,  trying  to 
stroke  his  bristly  coat.  The  dog  snapped  at  his  hand. 
"You  are  quite  right,"  said  Raschke,  "in  being  angry 
with  me.  I  will  show  you  that  I  confess  I  am  in  the 
wrong."  So  he  took  the  coat  off,  and  hung  it  over 
his  arm.  "  It  is,  indeed,  much  heavier  than  my  own." 
He  marched  briskly  on  in  his  light  coat,  and  saw  with 
satisfaction  that  the  dog  made  no  more  attacks  on  his 
skirts.  On  the  other  hand,  Spitehahn  seized  the  great- 
coat, and  began  biting  at  it,  snapping  at  the  Pro- 
fessor's hand  and  growling  furiously. 

The  Professor  got  angry  with  the  dog,  and  as  he 
came  to  a  bench  in  the  Promenade,  he  laid  the  coat 
down  on  it,  in  order  to  deal  with  the  animal  in  earnest, 
and  drive  him  home.  By  this  means  he  got  rid  of 
the  dog  and,  what  was  more,  of  the  coat  too;  for 


CLOUDLETS.  363 

Spitehahn,  jumping  up  eagerly  on  the  bench  with 
a  mighty  leap,  seized  the  coat,  and  kept  the  Professor 
at  bay.  "  It  is  Werner's  coat,"  said  the  Professor, 
"and  it  is  Werner's  dog,  and  it  would  be  un- 
justifiable to  beat  the  poor  animal  because  in  his 
fidelity  he  has  become  excited,  and  it  would  be  also 
wrong  to  leave  both  dog  and  coat."  So  he  remained 
with  the  dog,  trying  to  coax  him;  the  animal,  how- 
ever, took  no  further  notice  of  the  Professor;  on  the 
contrary,  ,he  devoted  himself  to  the  coat,  which  he 
turned  over  and  over  again,  scraping  and  gnawing  at 
it.  Raschke  perceived  that  the  coat  would  not  long 
stand  such  treatment.  "The  dog  must  be  mad,"  he 
said  to  himself,  suspiciously,  "  and  I  shall  have  to  re- 
sort to  violence  after  all  towards  the  poor  creature;"  and 
he  considered  whether  it  were  better  to  jump  up  on 
the  bench  and  drive  the  mad  dog  off  with  a  good  kick, 
or  to  make  the  unavoidable  attack  from  below.  He 
decided  on  the  latter,  and  searched  about  for  a  stone 
or  stick  to  arm  himself  for  the  encounter.  He  then 
looked  up  at  the  trees  and  the  dark  sky,  and  could  not 
in  the  least  tell  where  he  was.  "  Is  this  witchcraft?" 
he  said  to  himself,  amused.  "  Pray  tell  me,"  address- 
ing a  solitary  passer-by,  "  in  what  part  of  the  town  we 
are;  and  will  you  have  the  goodness  to  lend  me  your 
stick  for  a  moment?" 

"These  are  strange  questions,"  replied  the  stran- 
ger, in  a  surly  tone.  "  I  want  my  stick  myself  at  this 
time  of  night.  And  who  are  you,  sir,  I  should  like  to 
know?"  And  he  approached  the  Professor  mena- 
cingly. 

"I  am  a  peaceable  man,"  replied  the  Professor,  "and 

little  inclined  to  violent  courses.  But  a  struggle  has 
commenced  between  that  dog  on  the  bench  and  me 


364  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

about  an  overcoat,  and  I  should  be  extremely  obliged 
to  you  if  you  would  rescue  the  coat  from  the  dog. 
But  pray  do  no  more  harm  to  him  than  is  absolutely 
necessary." 

"  Is  it  your  coat?"  asked  the  man. 

"  Unfortunately,  I  cannot  say  it  is,"  replied  Raschke, 
conscientiously. 

"  There  is  something  wrong  here,"  cried  the 
stranger,  again  looking  with  suspicion  at  the  Professor. 

"  Something,  indeed,"  replied  Raschke;  "  the  dog 
is  mad,  the  coat  has  been  changed,  and  I  don't  know 
where  we  are." 

"Close  to  the  Valley  Gate,  Professor  Raschke," 
answered-  the  voice  of  Gabriel,  who  rapidly  joined  the 
group.  "But,  pardon  me,  how  came  you  here?" 

"How  opportune,"  cried  Raschke,  delighted;  "just 
take  charge  of  the  coat  and  the  dog."  • 

With  astonishment  Gabriel  saw  his  friend  Spite- 
hahn,  who  was  now  sitting  on  the  coat,  quite  abashed 
and  chapfallen  at  the  sight  of  his  master.  Gabriel 
drove  the  dog  off,  and  seized  the  coat.  "It  is  my  own 
overcoat!"  he  said. 

"Yes,  Gabriel,"  rejoined  the  Professor,  "that  was 
my  mistake,  and  the  dog  has  displayed  a  wonderful 
fidelity  in  guarding  it." 

"Fidelity!"  said  Gabriel,  indignantly,  as  he  pulled 
a  parcel  out  of  the  pocket;  "it  was  greedy  self- 
ishness. There  must  be  something  to  eat  in  here." 

"Ah!  I  recollect  now,"  cried  Raschke;  "  it  is  the 
fowl  that's  to  blame.  Give  me  the  parcel,  Gabriel; 
I  must  eat  it  myself.  And  we  may  now  wish  one 
another  good-night  in  peace,  unless  you  will  go  with 
me  a  little  way  to  show  me  the  road  amongst  these 
trees." 


CLOUDLETS. 


365 


"But  you  can't  go  in  this  night  air  without  an  over- 
coat," said  the  tender-hearted  Gabriel.  "We  are  not 
far  from  our  house,  and  it  would  be  better  for  you  to 
return  with  me  to  the  Professor's." 

Raschke  paused  a  while,  and  laughed.  "  You  are 
quite  right,  my  good  Gabriel:  my  sudden  departure 
was  all  wrong,  and  the  soul  of  an  animal  has  this  day 
given  a  lesson  to  a  human  soul." 

"  If  you  mean  this  dog,  replied  Gabriel,  " it  is  the 
first  time  in  his  life  he  has  given  anybody  a  lesson.  I 
suppose  that  he  followed  you  from  our  door,  for  I  put 
bones  there  for  him  every  evening." 

"At  one  time  I  thought  he  was  quite  mad,"  said 
the  Professor. 

"He  is  a  sly  one  when  he  chooses,"  replied  Ga- 
briel, with  an  air  of  mystery;  "  but  if  I  were  to  tell  all 

my  experiences  with  him  to  this  day " 

"  Do  tell  me,  Gabriel,"  cried  the  Professor,  quite  ex- 
cited. "  Nothing  is  so  valuable  with  respect  to  ani- 
mals as  authentic  anecdotes,  collected  by  those  who 
have  observed  them  closely." 

"  I  can  vouch  for  my  experience,"  said  Gabriel, 
with  an  air  of  confidence;  "  and  if  you  really  wish  to 
know  what  he  is,  I  can  tell  you  he  is  possessed — he  is 
a  devil — he's  a  depraved  brute — and  bears  a  grudge 
against  the  whole  human  race!  " 

"Hum! — is  that  so?"  murmured  the  philosopher. 
"  I  believe  it  is  much  easier  to  look  into  the  heart  of  a 
Professor  than  that  of  a  dog." 

Spitehahn  crept  along  quietly  but  depressed,  with 
his  tail  between  his  legs,  listening  to  the  praise  be- 
stowed on  him,  whilst  Raschke,  accompanied  by  Ga- 
briel, returned  through  the  park  to  the  house.  Gabriel 


366  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

flung  open  the  parlor  door,  and  announced  "  Profes- 
sor Raschke." 

Use  stretched  out  both  hands,  "Welcome — wel- 
come, dear  Professor!"  and  led  him  in  to  her  hus- 
band's study. 

"  Here  I  am  again,"  said  Raschke,  in  a  cheerful 
tone,  "  after  an  adventure  like  a  fairy  tale.  I  have 
been  brought  back  by  two  animals  who  have  shown 
me  the  right  path — a  roast  fowl  and  a  perverted  dog." 

Felix  sprang  to  his  feet,  the  two  friends  shook 
hands  cordially,  and,  after  all  misunderstanding,  the 
evening  passed  off  most  pleasantly. 

When  Raschke  at  length  withdrew,  Gabriel  said 
sorrowfully  to  his  mistress:  "  It  was  the  new  coat; 
the  chicken  and  the  dog  have  ruined  it  beyond  all 
recognition." 


CHAPTER  XIX. 
THE  ILLNESS. 

IT  was  the  first  burst  of  spring  in  the  wood  and 
gardens  adjoining  the  city.  The  buds  and  the  cater- 
pillars had  slumbered  together  in  quiet  winter  dreams; 
now  the  leaves  expanded,  and  the  grubs  crawled  over 
the  young  green  shoots.  Under  the  bright  rays  of  the 
sun  in  its  higher  course,  the  struggle  of  life  began, — 
the  blooming  and  withering,  the  rich  colors,  and  the 
frost  under  which  they  were  to  fade,  the  bright  green 
leaves  and  the  caterpillars  that  gnawed  them;  the 
eternal  strife  began  anew  in  buds  and  blossoms  just 
as  in  the  heart  of  man. 

Use,  in  her  hours  of -instruction,  was  now  reading 
Herodotus;  he,  too,  was  a  harbinger  of  spring  for  the 
human  race;  hovering  above  the  borderland  between 
dreamy  poetry  and  unclouded  reality,  the  glad  pro- 
claimer  of  a  time  in  which  the  people  of  the  earth  re- 
joiced in  their  own  beauty  and  perfection,  and  first 
began  to  seek  seriously  truth  and  knowledge.  Again 
Use  read  with  passionate  excitement  the  pages  which 
brought  a  shattered  world  before  her  eyes  with  such 
vivid  reality.  But  there  was  not  the  same  serene  and 
exalted  pleasure  in  the  narrative  as  in  the  works  of 
the  great  poet  who  so  directed  the  fate  and  deeds  of 
his  heroes  as  to  produce  a  pleasing  impression  upon 
the  mind,  even  when  they  excited  sorrow  and  fear. 
For  it  is  the  privilege  of  human  invention  to  form  the 
world  as  the  tender  heart  of  man  desires  it;  with  al- 
ternations and  fitting  proportions  of  happiness  and 


368  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

sorrow,  the  recognition  of  each  individual  according 
to  his  powers  and  actions,  and  due  compensation. 
But  the  mind  which  here  delineated  the  life  of  the 
past,  did  so  in  a  superhuman  manner,  life  crowded 
life,  so  that  one  devastated  the  other,  destruction 
mercilessly  overtook  them,  good  and  bad  alike  ;  here 
too,  there  was  retribution;  here,  too,  there  was  a 
curse,  but  their  effect  was  incomprehensible  and  cruel. 
What  was  good  ceased  to  be  good,  and  evil  gained 
the  victory.  What  was  first  a  blessing  afterwards  be- 
came ruin;  what  was  now  beneficent  greatness  and 
dominion,  afterwards  became  a  disease,  which  des- 
troyed the  state.  The  individual  heroes  were  of  little 
importance;  if  a  great  human  power  rose  and  domina- 
ted for  a  moment,  Use  soon  saw  it  disappear  in  the 
whirling  stream  of  events.  Croesus,  the  over-confi- 
dent, good-hearted  king,  fell;  the  powerful  Cyrus 
passed  away,  and  Xerxes  wa.s  beaten.  But  nations 
also  sank,  the  blooming  flower  of  Egypt  withered,  the 
golden  realm  of  Lydia  was  shattered,  and  mighty 
Persia  fir,st  corrupted  others  and  then  itself.  In  the 
young  Hellenic  people,  that  rose  with  such  heroic 
strength,  she  already  saw  busily  at  work  violence,  evil 
deeds,  and  enmities,  through  which  the  most  beauti- 
ful picture  of  antiquity,  after  short  prosperity,  was  to 
pass  away. 

Use  and  Laura  were  sitting  opposite  each  other, 
with  an  open  book  lying  between  them.  Laura,  in- 
deed, was  not  admitted  to  the  private  lessons  of  the 
Professor,  but  her  soul  faithfully  accompanied  Use  on 
the  path  of  learning.  Use  imparted  the  acquisitions 
of  her  hours  of  instructions  to  her,  and  enjoyed  the 
sweet  pleasure  of  infusing,  new  ideas  into  the  mind  of 
her  friend. 


THE    ILLNESS.  369 

"  I  felt  great  indignation  at  this  Xerxes,"  cried 
Laura,  "even  from  what  I  read  in  the  primer: 

1 '  Xantippe  was  a  cross,  mean  thing 
No  peace  her  husband  had. 
But  Xerxes  was  a  Persian  King 
And  he  was  just  as  bad." 

I  long  thought  that  Xantippe  was  his  wife,  and  I  wish 
he  had  had  her.  On  the  other  hand,  look  at  the  three 
hundred  Spartans  who  sent  the  others  home  and  encir- 
cled themselves  with  wreaths,  anointed  themselves,  and 
put  on  the  festive  garb  to  march  to  death.  That  ele- 
vates the  heart;  they  were  men.  If  I  could  show  my 
veneration  for  their  memory  by  means  of  my  stupid 
head  and  weak  hands,  I  would  work  for  it  till  my  fin- 
gers ached.  But  what  can  a  poor  creature  like  me  do? 
At  the  utmost,  embroider  traveling-bags  for  their 
journey  to  the  lower  world,  and  these  would  come  two 
thousand  years  too  late.  We  women  are  pitiable 
creatures,"  she  exclaimed,  with  vexation. 

"There  were  others  in  the  battle,"  said  Use,  "who 
affected  me  more  than  the  three  hundred  Spartans. 
These  were  the  Thespians,  who  fought  and  died  with 
them.  The  Spartans  were  impelled  by  their  proud 
hearts  and  the  strict  discipline  and  commands  of  their 
rulers.  But  the  Thespians  died  willingly.  They 
were  a  small  people,  and  they  well  knew  that  the 
greatest  honor  would  attach  to  their  distinguished 
neighbors.  But  they  were  faithful  in  their  humble 
position,  and  that  was  far  more  self-sacrificing  and 
noble.  Ah!  it  was  easy  for  all  of  them,"  she  con- 
tinued, sorrowfully;  "  but  for  those  who  remained  be- 
hind, their  poor  parents,  wives  and  children  at  home, 
what  destruction  of  happiness  and  unspeakable  mis- 
ery! " 


370  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

"Misery!"  cried  Laura;  "if  they  thought  as  I  do, 
they  were  proud  of  the  death  of  their  loved  ones,  and 
like  them  wore  garlands  in  their  sorrow.  What  is  the 
purpose  of  our  life  if  we  cannot  rejoice  in  giving  our- 
selves up  for  higher  things?" 

"For  higher  things?  "  asked  Use.  "  What  men 
value  higher  than  wife  and  child,  is  that  higher  for  us 
also?  Our  duty  is  to  devote  our  whole  hearts  to 
them,  our  children,  and  our  home.  When,  therefore, 
they  are  taken  from  us,  our  whole  lives  are  desolated 
and  nothing  remains  but  endless  sorrow.  It  is  natural 
for  us  to  view  their  vocation  differently  than  they  do 
themselves." 

"I  would  like  to  be  a  man,"  cried  Laura.  "Are 
we  then  so  weak  in  mind  and  spirit,  that  we  must  have 
less  enthusiasm,  less  feeling  of  honor,  and  less  love 
for  our  Fatherland  than  they?  It  is  a  fearful  thought 
to  be  one's  whole  life  long  only  the  waiting-maid  of  a 
master  who  is  no  stronger  or  better  than  oneself,  and 
who  wears  overshoes,  that  his  feet  may  not  get  wet, 
and  a  woollen  muffler  the  moment  a  breath  of  cold  air 
blows." 

"  They  do  wear  these  things  here  in  the  town,"  re- 
plied Use,  laughing. 

"  Yes,  nearly  all  of  them  do,"  said  Laura,  evasively; 
"  but  believe  me,  Frau  Use,  these  men  have  no  right 
to  expect  us  to  devote  our  whole  heart  and  lives  to 
them.  It  is  just  the  most  thorough  of  them  that  dp 
not  give  us  their  full  heart.  And  how  should  they? 
We  are  good  enough  to  entertain  them,  and  darn 
their  stockings,  and  perhaps  become  their  confidants, 
if  they  should  accidentally  be  at  a  loss  what  to  do; 
but  the  best  of  them  look  beyond  us  to  the  great  All, 


THE    ILLNESS. 


371 


and   in   that  is   their  special  life.     What  is  right  for 
them  should  also  be  fitting  for  us." 

"  And  have  we  not  enough  in  what  they  give  us  of 
their  life?"  asked  Use.  "If  it  is  only  a  portion  it 
makes  us  happy." 

"  Is  it  happiness  never  to  experience  the  highest 
of  emotions?"  exclaimed  Laura.  "  Can  we  die  like 
Leonidas?" 

Use  pointed  to  the  door  of  her  husband's  room. 
"  My  Hellas  sits  there  within  and  works,  and  my  heart 
beats  when  I  hear  his  step,  or  only  the  scratching  of 
his  pen.  To  live  or  die  for  the  man  one  loves  is  also 
an  elevating  idea,  and  makes  one  happy.  Ah,  happy 
only  if  one  knows  that  one  is  a  source  of  happiness  to 
him  also!" 

Laura  threw  herself  at  the  feet  of  her  friend,  and 
looked  entreatingly  into  her  anxious  face.  "  I  have  made 
you  serious  with  my  prattling,  and  that  was  wrong  of 
me;  for  I  would  gladly  conjure  a  smile  to  your  lips 
every  hour,  and  always  see  a  friendly  light  in.  those 
soft  eyes.  But  do  bear  with  me;  I  am  a  strange,  un- 
accountable girl,  and  often  discontented  with  myself 
and  others,  and  frequently  without  knowing  why. 
But  Xerxes  was  a  good  for  nothing  fellow,  to  that  I 
stick;  and  if  I  had  him  here  I  could  box  his  ears  every 
day." 

"At  all   events  he  received  his  due,"  replied  Use. 

Laura  started  suddenly.  "  Was  that  a  proper  retri- 
bution for  the  wretch  who  had  destroyed  or  made 
miserable  hundreds  of  thousands,  to  return  home  with- 
out a  scratch?  No  punishment  would  be  severe 
.enough  for  such  a  wicked  king.  But  I  know  right 
well  how  he  became  so;  his  mother  and  father  spoiled 
him;  he  had  always  lived  at  home,  had  grown  up  in 


372  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

luxury  and  all  men  were  subject  to  him.  And  so  he 
treated  all  with  contempt.  It  would  be  the  same  with 
others  if  they  were  in  the  same  position.  I  can  well 
imagine  myself  such  a  monster,  and  many  of  my  ac- 
quaintances too." 

"My  husband?"  asked  Use. 

"  No,  he  is  more  like  Cyrus  or.Cambyses,"  replied 
Laura. 

Use  laughed.  "That  is  not  true.  But  how  would 
it  be  with  the  Doctor  over  there?" 

Laura  raised  her  hand  threateningly  towards  the 
neighboring  house.  "  He  would  be  Xerxes,  just  as  he 
is  in  the  book,  if  one  could  think  of  him  without  spec- 
tacles, in  a  golden  dressing-gown,  with  a  sceptre  in 
his  hand,  without  his  good  heart  (for  Fritz  Hahn  un- 
doubtedly has  that);  somewhat  less  clever  than  he  is, 
and  still  more  spoilt,  as  a  man  also  who  has  written  no 
book,  and  learnt  nothing  but  to  treat  others  badly;  he 
would  then  be  Xerxes  out  and  out.  I  see  him  sitting 
before  me  on  a  throne,  by  a  brook,  striking  the  water 
with  a  whip  because  it  made  his  boots  wet.  He 
might  have  become  a  very  dangerous  fellow  if  he  had 
not  been  born  here  close  to  the  city  park." 

"I  think  so  too,"  replied  Use.  In  the  evening,  in 
the  course  of  her  hour  of  study,  Use  said  to  her  hus- 
band: "When  Leonidas  died  with  his  heroes,  he 
saved  his  countrymen  from  the  rule  of  foreign  barbar- 
ians; but  after  him  many  thousands  of  these  glorious 
men  fell  in  the  civil  wars  of  the  cities.  In  these  quar- 
rels the  people  became  deteriorated,  and  before  long 
other  strangers  came  and  deprived  their  descendants 
of  their  freedom.  For  what  end  did  these  many 
thousands  die? — of  what  use  was  all  the  hatred,  and 
enthusiasm,  and  party  zeal? — it  was  all  in  vain,  it  was 


THE    ILLNKSS. 


373 


all  a  token  of  decay.  Man  is  here  like  a  grain  of  sand 
that  is  trodden  down  into  the  earth.  I  find  myself 
facing  a  terrible  mystery  and  I  am  afraid  of  life." 

"Twill  endeavour  to  give  you  a  solution,"  replied 
her  husband,  seriously;  "but  the  words  which  I  am 
now  about  to  speak  to  you  are  like  the  key  to  the 
chambers  of  the  wicked  Bluebeard:  do  not  open 
every  room  too  hastily,  for  in  some  of  them  you  will 
discover  what,  in  your  present  frame  of  mind,  may 
raise  anew  your  fears." 

"  I  am  your  wife,"  cried  Use,  "  and  if  you  have  any 
answer  for  the  questions  which  torment  me  I  demand 
it  of  you." 

"My  answer  is  no  secret  to  you,"  said  the  Profes- 
sor. "You  are  not  only  what  you  consider  yourself — 
a  human  being  born  to  joy  and  sorrow,  united  to  indi- 
viduals by  nature,  love,  and  faith — but  you  are  bound 
body  and  soul  to  an  earthly  power,  of  which  you  think 
but  little,  but  which,  nevertheless,  guides  you  from  the 
first  breath  you  drew  to  the  last  gasp  of  life.  When  I 
tell  you  that  you  are  a  child  of  your  people,  and  a  child 
of  the  human  race,  the  expression  will  come  so  natu- 
rally to  you  that  you  will  not  assign  any  deep  meaning 
to  it.  Yet  this  is  your  highest  earthly  relation.  We 
are  too  much  accustomed  from  childhood  on  to  cherish 
in  our  hearts  only  the  individuals  to  whom  we  are 
bound  by  nature  or  choice,  and  we  seldom  stop  to 
think  that  our  nation  is  the  ancestor  from  whom  our 
parents  are  descended,  that  has  produced  our  language, 
laws,  manners,  that  has  given  us  all  we  possess,  given 
us  everything  that  constitutes  our  life,  and  almost  all 
that  determines  our  fortunes,  and  elevates  our  hearts. 
Yet  not  our  nation  alone  has  accomplished  this;  the 
peoples  of  the  earth  stand  to  one  another  as  brothers 


374  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

and  sisters,  and  one  nation  helps  to  decide  the  life  and 
fate  of  others.  All  have  lived,  suffered,  and  worked 
together,  in  order  that  you  may  live,  enjoy,  and  do 
your  part  in  life." 

Use  smiled.  "  The  bad  king  Cambyses,  and  his 
Persian  also?" 

"They  also,"  replied  the  Professor;  "for  the  great 
net  of  which  your  life  is  one  of  the  meshes,  is  woven 
from  an  infinite  number  of  threads,  and  if  one  had 
been  lost  the  web  would  be  imperfect.  Take  first,  a 
simple  illustration.  You  are  indebted  to  the  people  of  a 
period,  of  which  every  record  is  now  wanting,  for  the 
table  by  which  you  sit,  the  needle  which  you  hold  in 
your  hand,  and  the  rings  on  your  fingers  and  in  your 
ears;  the  shuttle  was  invented  by  an  unknown  people 
in  order  that  your  dress  might  be  woven,  and  a  similar 
palm-leaf  pattern  to  that  which  you  wear,  was  devised 
in  the  manufactory  of  a  Phoenician." 

"  Good,"  said  Use;  "  that  pleases  me;  it  is  a  charm- 
ing thought  that  antiquity  has  provided  so  consider- 
ately for  my  comfort." 

"Not  that  alone,"  continued  the  scholar.  "What 
you  know,  and  believe  also,  and  much  that  occupies 
your  heart,  has  been  delivered  to  you  through  your 
nation  from  its  own  and  foreign  sources.  Every  word 
that  you  speak  has  been  transmitted  and  remodelled 
through  hundreds  of  generations,  to  receive  thereby 
that  sound  and  significance  which  you  now  so  easily 
command.  It  was  for  this  object  that  our  ancestorscame 
into  the  country  from  Asia,  and  that  Arminius  strug- 
gled with  the  Romans  for  the  preservation  of  our 
language,  that  you  might  be  able  to  give  Gabriel  an 
order  which  both  could  understand.  It  was  for  you 
the  poets  lived,  who,  in  the  youth  of  the  Hellenic  peo- 


THE    ILLNESS.  375 

pie,  invented  the  powerful  rhythm  of  the  epic  verse, 
which  it  gives  me  such  pleasure  to  hear  from  your  lips. 
Furthermore,  that  you  may  believe,  as  you  do,  it  was 
necessary  that  three  hundred  years  ago  there  should 
take  place  in  your  Fatherland  a  great  and  mighty  strug- 
gle of  opinion;  and  again,  more  than  a  thousand  years 
earlier,  a  mighty  conflict  of  the  soul  in  a  small  people 
of  Asia;  and  again,  fifty  generations  earlier  still,  ven- 
erated commandments  given  under  the  tents  of  a 
wandering  people.  You  have  to  thank  a  past  which 
begins  with  the  first  life  of  man  on  earth  for  most  that 
you  have  and  are,  and  in  this  sense  the  whole  human 
race  has  lived  in  order  that  you  might  be  able  to 
live." 

Use  looked  excitedly  at  her  husband.  "The 
thought  is  elevating,"  she  exclaimed,  "and  is  calcu- 
lated to  make  man  proud.  But  how  does  that  agree 
with  this  same  man  being  a  nonentity,  and  crushed 
like  a  worm  in  the  great  events  of  history?" 

"As  you  are  the  child  of  your  nation,  and  of  the 
human  race,  so  has  every  individual  been  in  every 
age;  and  as  he  has  to  thank  that  greater  human  fab- 
ric, of  which  he  is  a  portion,  for  his  life  and  nearly 
all  its  content,  so  is  his  fortune  linked  to  the  greater 
fortune  .of  his  nation  and  to  the  destiny  of  mankind. 
Your  people  and  your  race  have  given  you  much,  and 
they  require  as  much  from  you.  They  have  preserved 
your  body  and  formed  your  mind,  and  they  demand 
in  return  your  body  and  mind.  However  lightly  and 
freely  you  move  about  as  an  individual,  you  are  an- 
swerable to  these  creditors  for  the  use  of  your  free- 
dom. Whether,  as  mild  masters,  they  allow  you  to 
pass  your  life  in  peace,  or  at  some  period  demand  it  of 
you,  your  duty  is  the  same;  whilst  you  fhink  that  you 


Cx 


376  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

live  and  die  for  yourself,  you  live  and  die  for  them. 
Contemplated  in  this  way,  the  individual  life  is  im- 
measurably small  compared  with  the  great  whole. 
To  us,  the  individual  man  who  has  passed  away  can 
only  be  discerned  in  so  far  as  he  has  influenced  others; 
it  is  only  in  connection  with  those  who  preceded  him, 
and  those  who  come  after  him,  that  he  is  of  impor- 
tance. But  in  this  sense  great  and  little  are  both  of 
value.  For  every  one  of  us  who  brings  up  his  chil- 
dren, or  governs  the  State,  or  in  any  Way  increases  the 
welfare,  comfort,  and  culture  of  his  race,  performs  a 
duty  towards  his  people.  Countless  numbers  do  this 
without  any  personal  record  of  them  remaining;  they 
are  like  drops  of  water,  which,  closely  united  with 
others,  run  on  as  one  great  stream,  not  distinguishable 
by  later  eyes.  But  they  have  not  on  that  account 
lived  in  vain;  and,  as  countless  insignificant  individu- " 
als  are  preservers  of  culture,  and  workers  for  the  du- 
ration of  national  strength,  so  the  highest  of  powers  in 
individuals — the  greatest  heroes  and  the  noblest  re- 
formers— only  represent  in  their  lives  a  small  portion 
of  that  national  strength.  Whilst  man  struggles  for 
himself  and  his  own  ends,  he  unconsciously  influences 
his  own  time,  and  his  own  people  for  all  futurity.  By 
ennobling  the  ideals  and  duties  of  future  generations, 
he  pays  his  own  debt  to  life.  You  see,  my  beloved, 
how  death  vanishes  from  history  in  such  a  conception. 
The  result  of  life  becomes  more  important  than  life 
itself;  beyond  the  man  is  the  nation — beyond  the  na- 
tion is  mankind;  every  human  being  that  has  moved 
upon  earth  has  lived,  not  only  for  himself,  but  for  all 
others,  and  for  us  also;  thus  our  life  has  been  bene- 
fited by  him.  As  the  Greeks  grew  up  in  noble  freedom 
and  passed  away,  and  as  their  thoughts  and  labors 


THE    ILLNESS. 


377 


have  benefited  later  generations  of  men,  so  our  life, 
though  it  moves  in  a  small  circle,  will  not  be  useless  to 
future  generations." 

"Ah!"  cried  Use,  "that  is  a  view  of  earthly  life 
which  is  only  possible  to  those  who  do  great  things, 
and  in  whom  later  times  will  take  an  interest;  my 
blood  runs  cold  at  the  thought.  Are  men,  then,  only  like 
flowers  and  weeds,  and  a  nation  like  a  great  meadow, 
and  what  remains,  when  they  are  mowed  down  by 
time,  only  useful  hay,  for  later  generations?  Surely 
all  that  once  existed  and  all  existing  at  present  have 
lived  also  for  themselves,  and  for  those  whom  they 
have  loved,  for  wife  and  children  and  friends,  and  they 
were  something  more  than  ciphers  among  millions; 
something  more  than  leaves  on  an  enormous  tree. 
Though  their  existence  is  so  insignificant  and  useless 
that  you  can  perceive  no  trace  of  their  work,  yet  the 
life  and  the  soul  of  the  beggar  and  the  life  and  the 
soul  of  my  poor  invalid  in  the  village  are  guarded  by 
a  power  which  is  greater  than  your  great  net  that  is 
woven  of  the  souls  of  men." 

She  arose  and  gazed  anxiously  into  her  husband's 
face.  "  Bow  your  human  pride  before  a  power  that 
you  do  not  understand." 

The  scholar  looked  at  his  wife  with  deep  solici- 
tude. "  I  do  bow  humbly  before  the  thought  that  the 
great  unity  of  human  beings  on  this  earth  is  not  the 
highest  power  of  life.  The  only  difference  between 
you  and  me  is,  that  my  mind  is  accustomed  to  hold 
intercourse  with  the  higher  powers  of  earth.  They 
are  to  me  revelations  so  holy  and  worthy  of  reverence, 
that  I  best  love  to  seek  the  Eternal  and  Incomprehen- 
sible by  this  path.  You  are  accustomed  to  find  the 
inscrutable  in  the  conceptions  which  have  been  im- 


378  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

pressed  on  your  mind  through  pious  traditions;  and  I 
again  repeat  what  I  before  said,  your  faith  and  yearn- 
ings arise  from  the  same  source  as  mine,  and  we  seek 
the  same  light,  though  in  different  ways.  What  the 
Gods,  and  also  the  Angels  and  Archangels  were  to  the 
faith  of  earlier  generations  —  higher  powers  which,  as 
messengers  of  the  Highest,  hovered  about  and  influ- 
enced the  lives  of  men  —  the  great  intellectual  unity  of 
nations  and  mankind  are  in  another  sense  to  us,  per- 
sonalities which  endure  and  yet  pass  away,  though  ac- 
cording to  different  laws  from  what  individual  men 
do.  My  endeavour  to  understand  these  laws  is  one 
form  of  my  piety.  You  yourself  will  gradually  learn 
to  appreciate  the  modest  and  elevating  concep- 
tions of  the  holy  sphere  in  which  I  live.  You  also 
will  gradually  discover  that  your  faith  and  mine  are 
about  the  same." 

"  No,"  cried  Use,  "  I  see  only  one  thing,  a  great 
gulf  which  divides  my  thoughts  from  yours.  Oh,  de- 
liver me  from  the  anguish  which  tortures  me  in  my 
concern  for  your  soul." 

"  I  cannot  do  it,  nor  can  it  be  done  in  a  day.  It 
can  only  be  done  by  our  own  lives,  by  thousands  of 
impressions  and  by  thousands  of  days,  in  which  you 
will  become  accustomed  to  look  upon  the  world  as  I 
do." 

He  drew  his  wife,  who  was  standing  as  if  transfixed, 
nearer  to  him.  "Think  of  the  text:  '  In  my  father's 
house  are  many  mansions.'  He  who  so  spoke  knew 
that  man  and  wife  are  one  through  the  strongest  of 
earthly  feelings,  which  bears  all  and  suffers  all." 

"  But  what  can  I  be  to  you  to  whom  the  individ- 
ual is  so  little?"  asked  Use,  faintly. 

"The    highest    and    dearest    being    on    earth,  the 


THE    ILLNESS. 


379 


flower  of  my  nation,  a  child  of  my  race  in  whom  I 
love  and  honour  what  was  before  and  will  survive  us." 

Use  stood  alone  among  the  strange  books;  without, 
the  wind  howled  round  the  walls,  the  clouds  flitted 
across  .the  face  of  the  moon;  soon  the  room  became 
dark,  and  then  was  lighted  up  by  a  pale  glimmer.  In 
the  flickering  light  the  walls  seemed  to  spread  and 
rise  to  an  immeasurable  height;  strange  figures  rose 
from  among  the  books,  they  glided  by  the  walls,  and 
were  suspended  from  the  ceiling,  an  army  of  grey 
shadows,  which  by  day  were  banished  to  the  book- 
shelves, now  came  trooping  towards  her,  and  the  dead 
who  continued  to  live  as  spirits  on  earth  stretched  out 
their  arms  to  her  and  demanded  her  soul  for  them- 
selves. 

Use,  with  head  erect,  raised  her  hands  on  high, 
and  called  to  her  aid  the  beautiful  images,  which  from 
her  childhood  had  surrounded  her  life  with  blessing, 
white  figures  with  shining  countenances.  She  bent 
her  head  and  prayed:  "O  guard  the  peace  of  my 
soul." 

When  Use  entered  her  room  she  found  a  letter 
from  her  father  on  her  table;  she  opened  it  hastily, 
and,  after  reading  the  first  lines,  sank  down  sobbing. 

Her  father  had  informed  her  of  the  death  of  an  old 
friend.  The  good  pastor  had  been  borne  away  from 
the  narrow  valley  to  the  place  of  rest,  which  he  had 
chosen  in  the  churchyard,  near  his  wife.  He  had 
never  recovered  from  the  disquiet  which  the  departure 
of  Use  had  caused  him;  he  had  passed  the  winter  in 
lingering  illness,  and  one  warm  spring  evening  death 
came  up.on  him  while  sitting  before  his  peach-tree  in 
the  garden.  There  the  faithful  servant  found  him,  and 
ran  with  the  terrible  news  to  the  manor.  A  few  hours 


380  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

before  he  had  requested  Clara  to  write  to  his  dear 
child  in  the  city,  that  all  was  well  with  him. 

Use  had  often  been  anxious  about  the  life  of  her 
friend  during  the  winter,  so  the  account  was  not  a  sur- 
prise to  her.  Yet  now  she  felt  his  loss  as  a  terrible 
misfortune;  it  was  a  life  which  had  been  firmly  and 
faithfully  devoted  to  her;  she  well  knew  that  in  later 
years  she  had  become  almost  exclusively  the  object 
of  his  thoughts  and  fond  affections.  She  had  aban- 
doned one  who  had  been  part  of  her  life,  im- 
pelled by  a  stronger  feeling,  and  it  now  appeared  as-if 
she  had  done  wrong  in  parting  from  him.  She  saw 
the  staff  broken  which  had  bound  her  firmly  to  the 
feelings  of  her  childhood.  It  seemed  as  if  the  ground 
tottered  beneath  her,  as  if  all  had  become  insecure,  the 
heart  of  her  husband,  and  her  own  future. 

The  Professor  found  her  dissolved  in  tears  and 
bending  over  the  letter;  her  grief  moved  him,  and  he 
anxiously  begged  her  to  think  of  herself.  He  spoke 
to  her  tenderly,  and  at  last  she  raised  her  eyes  to  him 
and  promised  to  be  composed. 

But  it  was  in  vain.  After  a  few  hours  he  was 
obliged  to  carry  her  to  bed. 

It  was  a  dangerous  illness.  There  were  days  in 
which  she  lay  unconscious  in  death-like  weakness. 
When,  at  times,  she  opened  her  weary  eyes,  she  looked 
into  the  careworn  countenance  of  her  husband,  and 
saw  Laura's  curly  head  tenderly  bending  over  her; 
then  all  would  vanish  again  in  vague  insensibility. 

It  was  a  long  struggle  between  life  and  death,  but 
life  was  victorious.  Her  first  impression,  when  she 
awoke  as  from  a  painless  slumber,  was  the  rustling  of 
a  black  dress,  and  the  large  curl  of  Mrs.  Struvelius, 
who  had  popped  her  head  through  the  closed  curtains, 


THE    ILLNESS.  381 

and  was  gazing  sorrowfully  on  her  with  her  great  grey 
eyes.  She  gently  called  her  husband  by  name,  and  the 
next  moment  he  was  kneeling  by  her  bed,  covering 
her  hand  with  kisses;  and  the  strong  man  had  so  com- 
pletely lost  all  self-control  that  he  wept  convulsively. 
She  laid  her  hand  on  his  head,  stroked  the  matted 
hair,  and  said  to  him,  gently:  "Felix,  my  love,  I  will 
live." 

There  followed  now  a  time  of  great  weakness  and 
slow  convalescence;  she  had  many  an  hour  of  helpless 
depression,  but  withal  a  faint  smile  would  play  at 
times  over  her  thin,  pale  lips. 

Spring  had  come.  The  buds  had  not  all  been  des- 
troyed by  the  frost  of  the  previous  night,  and  the 
birds  twittered  before  her  windows.  Use  was  deeply 
moved  to  see  what  a  good  nurse  her  husband  was, — • 
how  adroitly  he  gave  her  medicine  and  food,  and 
would  scarcely  suffer  anyone  to  take  his  place  by  her 
bedside;  he  stubbornly  refused  to  take  a  few  hours' 
sleep  in  the  night,  till  she  herself  begged  him  to  do 
so,  and  then  he  could  not  resist.  She  learned  from  Laura 
that  he  had  been  in  great  distress  of  mind,  and  when 
she  was  at  the  worst  had  been  quite  distracted  and 
moody,  and  angry  with  every  one.  He  had  sat  day 
and  night  by  her  bedside,  so  that  it  was  wonderful 
how  he  had  been  able  to  endure  it.  "  The  phy- 
sician was  unable  to  manage  him,"  said  Laura;  "  but  I 
found  the  right  way,  for  I  threatened  him  seriously 
that  I  would  complain  to  you  of  his  obstinacy.  Then 
he  consented  to  my  taking  his  place  for  a  few  hours, 
and  at  last  Mrs.  Struvelius  also,  but  unwillingly, 
because  he  maintained  that  her  dress  rustled  too  much; 

Laura  herself  showed  how  devoted  was  her  love; 
she  was  always  on  the  spot,hovering  noiselessly  about  the 


382  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

sick-bed  like  a  bird;  she  would  sit  motionless  for  hours, 
and  when  Use  opened  her  eyes,  and  her  strength  was 
a  little  restored,  she  had  always  something  pleasant  to 
tell  her.  She  informed  her  that  Mrs.  Struvelius 
had  come  on  the  second  day,  and,  after  making  a  little 
speech  to  the  Professor,  in  which  she  solemnly  claimed 
the  right  of  a  friend,  she  seated  herself  on  the  other 
side  of  the  bed.  He,  however,  had  not  listened  to 
what  she  said,  and  had  suddenly  started  and  asked 
who  she  was,  and  what  she  wanted  there.  She  had 
answered  him  quietly  that  she  was  Flaminia  Struve- 
lius, and  that  her  heart  gave  her  a  right  to  be  there; 
thereupon  she  repeated  her  argument,  and  at  last  he 
gave  in.  "  Her  husband,  too,  has  been  here,"  -added 
Laura,  cautiously.  "  Just  when  you  were  at  the  worst, 
he  rushed  up  to  your  husband,  who  shook  hands  with 
him,  but,  between  ourselves,  I  do  not  think  he  knew 
him.  Then,"  related  Laura,  "  that  absurd  fellow,  the 
Doctor,  came  the  very  first  evening,  with  a  blanket 
and  a  tin  coffee-machine,  and  declared  he  would  watch 
also.  As  he  could  not  be  allowed  in  the  sick-room, 
he  placed  himself  with  his  tin  apparatus  in  the  Pro- 
fessor's room;  the  Professor  took  care  of  you,  and  the 
Doctor  took  care  of  the  Professor."  Use  drew  Laura's 
head  down  to  her,  and  whispered  in  her  ear,  "and 
sister  Laura  took  care  of  the  Doctor."  Upon  this 
Laura  kissed  her,  but  shook  her  head  vehemently. 
"  He  was  not  troublesome,  at  any  rate,"  she  continued; 
"  he  kept  very  quiet,  and  he  was  useful  as  a  Cerberus 
to  keep  away  the  visitors  and  dismiss  the  many  in- 
quirers. This  he  did  faithfully.  If  it  were  possible 
for  you  to  see  him,  I  believe  it  would  give  him  great 
pleasure." 

Use  nodded.   "  Let  him   come  in."     The   Doctor 


17 


THE    ILLNESS..  383 

came;  Use  stretched  out  her  hand  towards  him,  and 
felt  from  the  warm  pressure,  and  from  the  emo- 
tion on  his  countenance,  that  the  learned  confidant  of 
her  beloved  husband,  on  whose  approbation  she  had 
not  always  counted,  was  a  true  friend.  Use  found  also 
that  other  gentlemen  pressed  to  her  bedside. 

"  If  the  wife  of  my  colleague  will  give  me  audience, 
I  beg  to  apply  for  admittance,"  said  a  cheerful  voice, 
outside. 

"  Come  in,  Professor  Raschke,"  cried  Use,  from  her 
bed. 

"  There  she  is,"  exclaimed  he,  louder  than  is  usual 
in  a  sick-room,  "  returned  to  the  glad  light  after  a 
dangerous  crisis." 

"What  are  the  souls  of  animals  doing,  dear  Pro- 
fessor?" asked  Use. 

"  They  are  eating  the  leaves  in  the  adjacent  woods," 
answered  Raschke;  "  th^ere  have  been  numerous  lady- 
birds this  year;  see,  there  is  one  flying  about  the  med- 
icine bottle;  I  fear  it  has  used  me  as  a  st'age-coach 
to  come  in  to  visit  you.  The  trees  stand  like  brooms,- 
and  the  poultry  are  so  fat  that  all  prejudices  concern- 
ing the  enjoyment  of  these  fellow-creatures  are  quite 
set  aside.  I  count  the  days  until  the  happy  moment 
arrives  when  my  friend  will  -follow  me  to  give  evidence 
of  my  improvement." 

It  was  a>slow  recovery,  but  accompanied  by  abund- 
ant feelings  of  comfort;  for  fate  grants  to  convales- 
cents, as  a  compensation  for  danger  and  suffering,  to 
see  all  around  them,  free  from  the  dust  of  the  work-a- 
day  world,  in  pure  outlines  and  fresh  brilliancy.  Use 
now  felt  this  mild  poetry  of  the  sick-bed,  when  she 
held  out  her  hand  to  the  honest  Gabriel,  which  he 
kissed,  holding  his  handkerchief  to  his  eyes,  whilst  the 


[? 


384  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

Professor  extolled  his  devoted  service.  She  felt  this 
pleasure  also  when  going  down  into  the  garden,  sup- 
ported by  Laura's  arm.  Mr.  Hummel  advanced  to 
her  respectfully,  in  his  best  coat,  with  his  hair  brushed 
down  and  his  defiant  eyes  softened  almost  into  a  mild 
expression,  and  behind  him  followed  slowly  his  dog 
Spitehahn,  his  head  also  bent  in  unwilling  respect. 
When  Mr.  Hummel  had  offered  his  homage,  he  said, 
sympathisingly:  "  If  you  should  ever  wish  for  a  little 
quiet  exercise,  I  beg  of  you  to  make  use  of  my  boat  at 
your  pleasure."  This  was  the  greatest  favor  that 
Mr.  Hummel  could  show,  for  he  did  not  credit  the  in- 
habitants of  the  neighborhood  in  which  he  lived  with 
any  of  the  qualifications  which  are  necessary  to  make 
aquatic  excursions.  He  was  undoubtedly  right  when 
he  called  a  voyage  in  his  boat  a  quiet  amusement; 
for  this  season  the  boat  had  mostly  rested  upon  bottom 
on  account  of  the  shallownes^p  of  the  water  and  the 
greatest  amusement  that  it  could  offer  was  to  stretch 
out  the  hands  to  both  banks,  and  tear  up  a  tuft  of  grass 
with  each. 

When  Use  could  sit  in  her  room  again,  it  often 
happened  that  the  door  opened  gently,  her  husband 
entered,  kissed  her,  and  then  returned  with  a  light 
heart  to  his  books.  When  she  saw  his  tender  anxiety, 
and  his  happiness  in  her  recovery,  and  in  again  having 
her  near  him,  she  no  longer  doubted  his  love,  and  felt 
that  she  ought  no  longer  to  be  anxious  about  what  he 
thought  of  the  life  and  passing  away  of  individuals 
and  of  nations. 


CHAPTER  XX. 
A    COURT    MATTER. 

Among  the  inquiries  after  the  Professor's  wife 
during  her  illness,  there  was  one  made  by  a  stranger. 
Gabriel  excited  a  little  astonishment  in  the  household 
when  he  mentioned:  "Once,  as  I  was  running  to  the 
apothecary,  a  man  of  refined  appearance  was  standing 
in  the  street  talking  with  Dorchen.  Dorchen  called 
to  me,  and  the  man  made  inquiries  concerning  every- 
thing, and  your  illness  seemed  very  inopportune  to  him." 

"Did  you  ask  his  name?" 

"  He  would  not  give  it.  He  was  from  your  part  of 
the  country,  and  had  only  made  inquiries  through  the 
town." 

"  Perhaps  it  was  some  one  from  Rossau,"  said  Use, 
annoyed.  "  I  hope  he  has  not  made  father  anxious  by 
his  talk." 

Gabriel  shook  his  head.  "  He  meant  something 
by  it;  he  tried  to  find  out  everything  about  the  house, 
and  asked  impudent  questions  that  I  would  not  an- 
swer. As  he  had  a  crafty  look,  I  followed  him  to  the 
nearest  inn,  and  the  waiter  told  me  that  he  was  the 
chamberlain  of  a  Prince."  Gabriel  mentioned  the 
name. 

"That  is  our  Prince  !  "  cried  Use;  "what  can  make 
him  take  such  interest  in  me  ?  " 

"  The  man  wished  to  take  some  news  home,"  re- 
plied her  husband.  "  He  was  among  the  retinue  on 
the  hunting  expedition  last  year,  and  it  was  kindly 
meant." 


386 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


This  answer  quieted  Gabriel,  and  Use,  much 
pleased,  said:  "It  is  so  nice  when  one's  Prince  takes 
such  interest  in  his  children  who  are  in  trouble  far 
from  home." 

But  there  was  some  foundation  withal  for  Gabriel's 
shaking  his  head;  the  inquiries  did  signify  something. 


Behind  the  buildings  of  a  country  farm-house,  a 
young  lady  could  be  seen,  tying  up  the  wild  flowers 
of  the  meadow  in  a  large  bouquet;  a  ball  of  blue 
yarn  rolled  in  her  lap  whenever  she  added  a  fresh 
handful  of  flowers.  A  youth  was  running  about  in  the 
deep  grass  before  her,  busily  engaged  in  collecting 
flowers,  placing  them  in  order  and  arranging  them 
according  to  color  for  the  nosegay-maker.  It  was  ev- 
ident that  the  youth  and  young  lady  were  brother  and 
sister  from  the  marked  family  likeness  of  both  coun- 
tenances, and  the  rich  walking-dress  left  no  doubt 
that  they  had  not  blossomed  amidst  the  clover  and 
camomile  of  the  soil,  even  though  the  horses'  heads 
and  the  galoon-trimmed  hats  of  their  attendants  had 
not  been  visible  through  a  gap  between  the  barns. 

"You  will  never  finish  your  bouquet,  Siddy,"  said 
the  young  man,  incredulously,  to  the  lady,  as  she 
awkwardly  tried  to  knot  the  broken  thread. 

"  If  the  thread  were  only  stronger  !  "  cried  the 
busy  maiden;  "do  knot  it  for  me!"  But  it  turned 
out  that  the  young  gentleman  was  nbt  more  expert 
himself. 

"  Look,  Benno,  how  beautiful  the  bouquet  will  be, 
— that  was  my  idea." 

"  It  is  all  much  too  loose,"  retorted  the  young  man. 

"  It  is  good  enough  for  the  first  time,"  replied 
Siddy;  "there,  see  my  hands,  how  sweet  they  smell." 


A    COURT    MATTER.  387 

She  showed  the  blue  points  of  her  little  fingers,  hold- 
ing them  up  to  his  face;  and  as  he  good-humoredly 
sniffed  at  them,  she  playfully  rapped  him  on  the  nose. 
"I  have  enough  of  the  red  flowers,"  she  continued, 
again  occupied  with  the  nosegay;  "  now  I  must  have 
one  more  circle  of  white." 

"What  kind  of  white?" 

"  If  I  did  but  know  their  names,"  replied  Siddy, 
thoughtfully;  "  I  mean  Marguerites.  What  do  you 
call  these  white  flowers?"  she  asked,  looking  back  to 
a  countrywoman  who  stood  in  a  respectful  attitude 
some  steps  behind  the  busy  pair,  looking  on  at  their 
proceedings  with  a  pleased  smile. 

"We  call  them  daisies,"  said  the  woman. 

"Ah,  that's  it?"  cried  Siddy;  "cut  long  stalks, 
Benno." 

"They  haven't  got  long  stalks,"  said  Benno,  plain- 
tively, carrying  her  what  he  could  pick  near  at  hand. 
"  I  will  tell  you  what  astonishes  me,"  he  began,  sitting 
down  by  his  sister  on  the  grass.  "This  meadow  is 
full  of  flowers;  when  it  is  mowed  the  grass  becomes 
hay,  and  one  doesn't  see  a  thing  of  all  the  flowers  in 
the  hay." 

"  Really  ?  "  replied  Siddy,  tieing  another  thread. 
"They  are  probably  dried  up." 

Benno  shook  his  head.  "  Only  look  at  a  bundle  of 
hay;  you  will  see  few  of  them  in  it.  1  think  the  peo- 
ple gather  them  beforehand,  and  sell  them  in  the 
city." 

Siddy  laughed,  and  pointing  over  the  green  fields, 
said,  "Look  around  you;  they  are  countless,  and  peo- 
ple only  buy  the  more  lasting  garden  flowers;  yet 
these  are  far  prettier.  How  lovely  is  the  star  in  the 
flower  of  our  Lady  Marguerite."  She  held  the  nose- 


388  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

gay  up  to  her  brother,  and  looked  lovingly  at  her  work 
of  art. 

"  You  have  completed  it  after  all,"  said  the  young 
man,  admiringly;  "  you  were  always  a  clever  girl, 
Siddy,  and  I  am  so  sorry  that  you  are  going  away 
frorri  us,"  he  added,  feelingly. 

His  sister  gazed  earnestly  at  him.  Are  you,  re- 
ally? And  will  you  always  think  kindly  of  me,  my 
brother?  You  are  the  only  one  here  from  whom  I  find 
it  hard  to  part,  Benno.  We  are  like  two  orphan  chil- 
dren sitting  in  the  snow  of  a  cold  winter's  night." 

She  who  thus  spoke  was  Princess  Sidonie,  and  the 
sun  was  shining  warm  on  the  blooming  meadow  be- 
fore her. 

"  How  do  you  like  my  bridegroom?"  she  asked, 
after  a  pause,  busily  winding  the  blue  thread  around 
the  finished  nosegay. 

"  He  is  a  handsome  man,  and  was  very  kind  to 
me,"  said  Benno,  thoughtfully.  "  But  is  he  clever?  " 

Siddy  nodded.  I  think  he  is.  He  writes  nice  let- 
ters. If  you  like,  you  shall  read  one." 

"  I  shall  be  glad  to  do  so,"  said  Benno. 

"  Do  you  know,"  continued  Siddy,  mysteriously, 
that  I  write  to  him  every  day!  For  I  think  a  woman 
ought  to  confide  everything  to  her  husband,  great  and 
small,  and  I  wish  to  accustom  him  and  myself  to  that. 
To  make  sure,  I  write  to  him  under  a  false  address, 
and  my  maid  takes  the  letters  to  the  post,  for  I  fear 
my  stupid  words  might  otherwise  be  read  before  they 
go."  She  said  this  with  apparent  indifference,  ex- 
amining her  bouquet  all  the  while.  "  He  will  hear 
every  little  detail  of  this  visit  to  Lady  Marguerite,  and 
that  it  has  given  you  pleasure.  Now  the  bouquet  is 
ready,"  she  exclaimed,  gaily.  "  I  will  fasten  a  hand- 


.    A    COURT    MATTER.  389 

kerchief  round  it;  we  will  take  it  in  the  carriage,  and 
I  will  set  it  on  my  writing-table." 

Benno  laughed:  "It  looks  like  a  club.  You  can 
lend  it  this  evening  to  the  savages  in  the  ballet." 

"  It  is  better  than  the  flat  things  which  one  can't 
even  put  in  water,"  replied  the  sister,  jumping  up; 
"  come  along,  we  will  carry  it  to  the  pump."  . 

They  hastened  to  the  farmyard,  followed  by  the 
peasant  woman.  Benno  took  a  bucket  and  carried  it 
to  the  pump. 

"  Let  me  pump,"  cried  Siddy.  She  seized  the 
handle  and  tried  to  move  it,  but  did  not  succeed;  only 
a  few  drops  ran  into  the  pitcher. 

Benno  objected.  "  You  are  too  clumsy,"  he  said, 
"let  me  try  it."  He  now  took  hold  of  the  wooden 
handle,  and  Siddy  held  the  bucket.  He  pumped  vig- 
orously, and  the  water  spurted  out  over  the  bucket, 
upon  the  hands  and  dress  of  the  Princess.  She  made 
a  slight  exclamation,  let  the  bucket  drop,  and  then 
both  burst  out  laughing. 

"  You  have  made  a  nice  mess  of  me,  you  naughty 
wretch,"  cried  Siddy.  "  Oh,  it  makes  no  difference, 
mother,"  she  added,  to  console  the  woman,  who  ran 
up  terrified,  clasping  her  hands.  "  Now,  Benno,  an 
idea  has  occurred  to  me:  I  will  put  on  a  gown  of  our 
dame  Marguerite,  and  you  a  smock-frock  of  her  hus- 
band, and  when  our  cousin  comes  he  will  not  know  us, 
and  we  will  surprise  him." 

"If  all  only  turns  out  well,"  rejoined  Benno,  doubt- 
fully. 

"  No  one  sees  us,"  urged  Siddy.  "Good  mother," 
she  said,  coaxingly,  to  the  country-woman,  "  come  into 
your  room,  and  help  us  to  dress." 

The  young  Prince   and   Princess  took  the  woman 


390  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

by  the  hand  and  led  .her  into  the  house.  Benno  laid 
his  coat  down  in  the  hall,  and  looked  doubtfully  at  the 
smock-frock,  which  was  brought  to  him  by  a  stout 
maid,  who  assisted  him  in  putting  it  on.  The  elegant 
peasant  lad  seated  himself  patiently  on  a  bench,  while 
waiting  for  his  companion,  and  employed  his  leisure 
in  turning  a  grinding-stone  and  inquisitively  holding 
the  tips  of  his  fingers  close  to  it.  Whilst  he  was  mak- 
ing this  experiment,  he  received  a  slight  blow  on  his 
back,  and  with  astonishment  beheld,  standing  behind 
him,  a  little  peasant  maid,  in  blue  petticoat  and  black 
jacket,  and  the  usual  cap  of  the  country  on  her  head. 

"  How  do  you  like  my  appearance?"  asked  Siddy, 
crossing  her  arms. 

"  Charmimg,"  exclaimed  Benno.  "I  had  no  idea 
that  I  had  such  a  pretty  sister." 

Siddy  made  a  rustic  curtsy.  "  Where  have  you 
kept  your  eyes,  you  foolish  boy?  Now  we  must  help 
in  the  household.  What  work  can  you  give  your  new 
servants,  Mother  Marguerite?" 

The  woman  simpered.  "  There  is  the  fodder  for 
the  cows  to  be  steeped  in  hot  water,"  she  said. 

"No  more  water,  we  have  had  enough  of  that. 
Come,  Benno,  we  will  set  the  table  in  the  garden  under 
the  fruit-trees,  and  then  carry  out  the  curds  and  cream." 

They  went  into  the  room,  and  brought  out  a  small 
bench  placing  it  on  the  grass-plot,  under  an  apple-tree; 
then  they  hurried  back  for  the  plates  and  spoons.  The 
woman  and  the  maid  carried  out  the  table  with  a  large 
bowl  of  milk,  and  some  rye  bread.  Siddy  tripped 
about  nimbly,  laid  the  tablecloth,  and  carefully  smooth- 
ing it  out,  placed  the  colored  earthenware  upon  it. 

"Look!"  whispered  Benno,  pointing  with  a  troubled 
air  to  the  worn  pewter  spoons. 


A    COURT    MATTER.  39! 

"We  can  wash  them,  and  dry  them  with  green 
leaves,"  advised  his  sister. 

They  ran  with  the  spoons  to  the  pump,  and  rubbed 
them  hard  with  leaves,  but  they  could  not  polish  them. 

"That's  just  their  way,"  said  Benno,  consolingly; 
"  it  is  part  of  a  country  picnic." 

The  table  was  laid,  and  Siddy  brought  forward 
some  stools  and  wiped  them  with  her  cambric  hand- 
kerchief. 

"You  are  the  Hereditary  Prince,"  said  Siddy,  "  so 
you  must  sit  on  the  bench,  and  we  others  on  each  side 
of  you.  The  rye  bread  must  be  crumbled,  but  every 
one  can  do  that  for  themselves.  There  is  no  sugar, 
but  that  .doesn't  matter." 

They  sat  waiting  before  the  milk  bowl,  beating  time 
with  the  spoons.  A  little  green  apple  fell  plump  into 
the  milk,  and  spattered  it  about.  Both  burst  out 
laughing,  jumped  up,  and  collected  the  unripe  apples 
and  plums  from  the  grass,  peering  across  the  hedge  at 
a  path  which  led  through  the  woods  to  the  town. 

"There  he  comes,"  cried  Benno;   "hide  yourself!" 

A  horseman  rode  up  at  a  gallop.  It  was  a  young 
officer.  He  threw  himself  off  his  snorting  horse, 
fastened  it  to  a  post,  and  leaped  over  the  hedge.  But 
he  stopped  amazed,  for  he  was  greeted  with  a  cross- 
fire of  unripe  apples  and  plums  from  each  side  of  the 
hedge.  He  quickly  collected  some  of  the  green  shot, 
and  defended  himself  as  well  as  he  could  against  the 
assault.  The  little  peasants  sprang  forth,  and  Benno 
cried  out,  "You  have  kept  us  waiting  a  long  time." 

Siddy  made  him  a  curtsy,  saying,  "Prince,  the 
butter-milk  is  served." 

Prince  Victor  looked  with  evident  admiration  at 
the  young  peasant.  "Ah!"  he  said,  good-humoredly, 


392 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


"now  one  sees  how  small  the  feet  are  before  which  one 
does  homage.  All  right,  children.  But  first  of  all  I 
must  have  satisfaction  for  the  attack." 

So  saying,  he  knotted  his  pocket-handkerchief;  the 
brother  and  sister  laughed,  and  said,  beseechingly, 
"  Be  good,  cousin,  we  will  not  do  it  again."  "  Oh, 
dear  Ogre,  pardon  and  compassion!  "  implored  Siddy, 
raising  the  corner  of  her  apron  to  her  eyes. 

"  Nothing  of  the  kind,"  cried  Victor;  "I  shall  no 
doubt  be  arrested  again  on  your  account,  and  shall 
therefore  punish  you  beforehand."  He  chased  them 
round  the  table. 

"  This  is  disagreeable,  cousin,"  cried  Siddy;  "let 
us  leave  off  this  nonsense,  and  come  to  the  table.  I 
will  help  you.  There  is  the  cream.  Everything  must 
be  fairly  distributed  when  Victor  is  present." 

Victor  examined  the  table.  "  It  is  all  very  nice, 
but  there  is  no  sugar." 

"There  was  none  to  be  had,"  cried  the  brother  and 
sister,  in  chorus. 

Victor  put  his  hand  into  his  pocket,  and  placed  a 
silver  box  on  the  table.  "  What  would  become  of  you 
without  me?  Here  is  the  sugar."  He  again  dipped 
into  his  pocket,  and  brought  out  a  leathern  flask  with 
a  small  drinking-glass.  "  Here  is  another  important 
thing,  the  cognac." 

"What  for?"  asked  Siddy. 

"To  drink,  most  gracious  cousin.  If  you  will  put 
this  cold  mess  into  your  interior  without  cognac,  I 
shall  not  venture  to  oppose  you;  but  I  advise  you, 
Benno,  as  a  man,  to  take  care  of  your  health." 

Both  held  their  spoons  with  an  air  of  embarrass- 
ment. 

"Is  that  necessary?"  asked  Benno,  distrustfully. 


A    COURT    MATTER. 


393 


"  It  is  a  pacifier,  as  our  doctor  says,"  declared  Vic- 
tor; "it  calms  and  quells  the  rebel  substances  into 
quiet  submission.  If  you  refuse  the  cognac,  it  is  just 
like  on  the  way  to  hell.  The  path  is  easy  at  the  be- 
ginning, but  what  follows  is  chaos.  At  all  events,  you 
would  be  spared  the  ballet  to-day.  Is  that  clear  to 
you?" 

"It  is  very  clear,"  cried  Siddy,  "that  you  are  as 
usual  making  sport  of  us.  Give  him  a  rap  on  his  fin- 
gers, Benno." 

Benno  tapped  his  hand  with  the  spoon.  Victor 
sprang  up  and  parried  it,  in  fencing  posture,  with  his 
spoon;  and  the  brother  and  sister  chased  their  cousin 
merrily  about  among  the  trees. 

They  were  disturbed  by  a  hasty  tread,  and  a  lackey 
made  his  appearance  for  a  moment  at  the  garden- 
gate.  "  His  most  Serene  Highness  is  riding  this  way," 
he  called  out. 

All  three  stood  still;  the  spoons  fell  into  the  grass. 
"We  are  betrayed,"  cried  Siddy,  turning  pale.  "Away 
with  you,  Victor." 

"I  am  an  officer,  and  dare  not  run  away,"  he  re- 
plied, shrugging  his  shoulders.  He  seized  his  sword 
and  hastily  fastened  it. 

"You  must  take  it  all  upon  yourself,"  Benno,  ex^ 
claimed  the  sister. 

"I  would  willingly  doit,"  replied  he,  timidly,  "but 
I  have  never  had  any  skill  in  invention." 

The  Prince  dismounted  in  front  of  the  farm-house, 
helped  by  his  equerry.  The  lackey  hastened  forward 
to  open  the  doors,  and  the  Prince  approached  slowly 
like  a  threatening  storm.  He  entered  the  garden,  and 
his  sharp  eyes  rested  on  the  embarrassed  Prince  and 
Princess,  who  stifly  made  their  obeisances  to  him. 


394  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

An  ironical  smile  curled  his  lip  when  he  saw  the 
dis'hes  on  the  table.  "Who  has  arranged  this  country 
carnival?"  he  asked.  All  were  silent.  "Answer, 
Benno,"  he  said,  turning  sharply  to  the  young  gen- 
tleman in  the  blue  smock-frock. 

"  Siddy  and  I  wished  to  have  a  little  pastime  in 
the  meadow  before  she  left  our  country.  I  spilled 
some  water  over  my  sister,  and  she  was  obliged  to 
change  her  dress." 

"Where  is  your  lady  in  waiting,  Sidonie?"  he  asked 
his  daughter. 

"I  begged  her  to  go  to  her  aunt  who  lives  in  this 
neighborhood,  and  to  return  in  an  hour,"  replied  the 
Princess  Sidonie. 

"She  has  not  done  right  in  forgetting  my  com- 
mands, in  order  to  gratify  yours;  and  she  neglected 
her  duty  in  exposing  the  Princess  to  such  an  ad- 
venture. It  is  not  fitting  that  princesses  should  enter 
village  houses  alone,  and  disguise  themselves." 

The  Princess  compressed  her  lips.  "  My  gracious 
lord  and  father,  forgive  me.  I  was  not  alone.  I  had 
the  best  protector  with  me  that  a  princess  of  our  house 
could  have,  that  was  your  Highness's  son,  my 
brother." 

The  Prince  drew  back  a  few  steps,  and  looked  si- 
lently into  her  face;  and,  so  strong  was  the  expression 
of  anger  and  displeasure  in  his  countenance,  that  the 
Princess  turned  pale  and  cast  down  her  eyes. 

"Has  the  Princess  appointed  Prince  Victor  to  be 
her  protector  in  the  peasant's  farm?"  he  inquired. 
"Has  Lieutenant" — he  mentioned  his  family  name — 
"permission  to  leave  the  garrison?" 

"  I  came  here  on  horseback  without  permission," 
replied  Victor,  with  military  composure. 


A    COURT    MATTER.  395 

"Report  yourself  under  arrest,"  commanded  the 
Prince. 

Victor  saluted  and  turned  away.  He  unfastened 
his  horse,  and,  nodding  behind  the  Prince's  back,  over 
the  hedge,  to  his  cousin,  he  trotted  back  to  the  town. 

"Make  haste  and  cease  this  mummery,"  ordered 
the  Prince.  "The  Princess  will  drive  home  in  a  car- 
riage with  the  Hereditary  Prince." 

The  young  people  made  their  obeisances  and  left 
the  garden. 

"  I  had  a  foreboding  of  this  misfortune,"  said  the 
Hereditary  Prince,  to  his  sister,  when  in  the  carriage. 
"Poor  Siddy!" 

"  I  would  rather  be  the  maid  of  this  countrywoman, 
and  wear  wooden  shoes,  than  continue  to  bear  this  life 
of  slavery,"  cried  the  angry  Princess. 

"  But  do  not  make  any  remarks  at  dinner,"  begged 
Benno. 

The  nosegay  of  wild  flowers  stood  in  the  bucket, 
and  was  torn  to  pieces  in  the  evening  by  the  country- 
woman's cow. 

*  * 

* 

The  day  following,  the  Lord  High  Steward,  von  Ot- 
tenburg,  an  old  gentleman  with  white  hair,  entered  the 
apartment  of  the  Prince. 

"  I  have  requested  your  Excellence  to  call  on  me," 
began  the  Prince,  politely,  "  because  I  wish  to  obtain 
your  advice  in  a  family  matter.  The  day  approaches 
when  the  Princess  will  leave  us.  Have  you  seen  my 
daughter  to-day?"  he  said,  interrupting  himself. 

"  I  come  from  her  Highness,"  answered  the  old 
gentleman  respectfully. 

The  Prince  smiled.  "  Yesterday  I  had  to  speak 
seriously  to  her.  The  children  took  into  their  heads 


396  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

to  act  an  idyl,  and  I  found  them  in  peasants'  dresses 
and  in  high  glee.  Our  dear  Siddy  had  forgotten  that 
such  sport  might  expose  her  to  misinterpretation, 
which  she  has  every  reason  to  avoid." 

The  Lord  High  Steward  bowed  in  silence. 

"  But  it  is  not  a  question  of  the  Princess  now.  The 
time  has  arrived  when  a  decision  must  be  made  con- 
cerning the  next  few  years  of  the  Hereditary  Prince's 
life.  I  have  thought  of  his  entering  one  of  the  large 
armies,  in  spite  of  the  consideration  due  to  his  delicate 
health.  You  know  that  there  is  only  one  empire  in 
which  this  is  possible,  and  even  there  unexpected 
difficulties  have  arisen.  There  are  two  regiments  in 
which  one  might  be  certain  that  the  Prince  would  only 
have  familiar  intercourse  with  the  officers  of  high 
birth.  One  of  these  regiments  is  commanded  by 
Colonel  Kobell,  who  quitted  our  service  some  years 
ago.  It  is  not  fitting  to  make  the  Prince  his  subordi- 
nate. In  the  other  regiment  an  unexpected  occur- 
rence has  taken  place  within  this  last  month.  A  cer- 
tain Mr.  Miller  has  been  introduced  into  it,  contrary 
to  the  wishes  of  the  corps  of  officers.  Thus  the  He- 
reditary Prince  is  debarred  from  belonging  to  the  only 
army  which  he  could  enter." 

"Allow  me  to  ask  whether  this  second  hindrance 
might  not  be  removed?"  said  the  Lord  High  Steward. 

"They  would  gladly  do  anything  to  please  us,"  re- 
plied the  Prince,  "but  they  do  not  know  how  to  man- 
age it;  for  the  appointment  of  this  unaristocratic  lieu- 
tenant was  made  for  political  reasons." 

"  Could  the  difficulty  not  be  removed  by  giving 
rank  to  the  family  of  the  lieutenant?"  suggested  the 
Lord  High  Steward. 

"That   has  been   cautiously   tried,   but   the  father 


A    COURT    MATTER. 


397 


would  not  consent;  and,  indeed,  your  Excellence,  the 
objection  would  remain  the  same.  You  know  that  I 
am  not  a  purist  in  these  things,  but  daily  intercourse 
with  such  a  person  would  be  unpleasant  to  the  He- 
reditary Prince.  Whether  Miller,  or  Von  Miller,  the 
dust  of  the  flour  would  remain." 

There  was  a  pause.  At  last  the  Lord  High  Stew- 
ard began:  "The  advantages  of  a  military  career  are 
certainly  undeniable  for  young  princes  who  have  no 
means  or  chance  of  finding  other  active  employment; 
but  is  this  course  advisable  for  a  future  sovereign  who 
needs  a  preparation  for  a  great  career?  I  remember 
that  in  former'times  your  Highness  did  not  take  a  fa- 
vorable view  of  a  soldier's  life  at  Court." 

"I  do  not  deny  that,"  replied  the  Prince.  "  I  must 
acknowledge  to  you  that  I  still  take  this  view.  The 
usual  condition  of  society  is  not  now  that  of  war,  but 
of  peace.  The  necessary  training  of  a  young  prince 
for  war  undoubtedly  develops  some  manly  parts  of 
his  character,  but  delivers  him  helplessly  into  the 
hands  of  his  officials  in  all  essential  matters.  In  confi- 
dence, your  Excellence,  a  pleasure  in  epaulets  lasts 
just  during  the  time  of  peace;  but  in  case  of  a  great 
war,  where  real  military  talent  is  requisite,  the  mili- 
tary dilettanteism  of  princes,  with  few  exceptions, 
turns  out  to  be  quite  useless.  All  this  is  undeniable. 
Unfortunately  it  is  at  present  no  longer  fashion  that 
determines  a  military  career  for  young  princes,  it  is  a 
serious  necessity.  The  times  in  which  we  live  are 
such  that  a  strict  connection  between  the  Court 
and  armies  is  inevitable;  and  what  at  one  time  was 
thought  to  be  unnecessary  is  now  the  support  of 
princes." 

"  I  do  not  see  that  the  position  of  reigning  princes 


39* 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


is  strengthened  by  their  being  bad  generals,"  answered 
the  Lord  High  Steward.  "  Indeed,  I  venture  to  assert 
that  many  of  the  difficulties  which  now  occur  between 
princes  and  their  people  arise  from  the  fact  that  our 
princes  occupy  themselves  too  much  with  the  shoeing 
of  horses,  the  training  of  recruits,  and  with  the  preju- 
dices and  ill  conduct  of  garrisons,  and  have  too  little 
of  the  firmness,  noble  pride,  and  princely  feeling  which 
can  only  be  developed  by  practice  in  worthier 
affairs." 

The  Prince  smiled.  "Your  Excellence,  then,  is  of 
the  opinion  that  the  Hereditary  Prince  should  visit  the 
University,  for  there  is  no  other  mode  of  training  when 
he  leaves  this  Court.  The  Prince  is  weak  and  easily 
led,  and  the  dangers  he  would  incur  on  this  path  are 
still  greater  than  intercourse  with  officers  of  inferior 
grade." 

"  It  is  true,"  interposed  the  Lord  High  Steward, 
"that  during  the  next  few  years  the  Hereditary  Prince 
may  find  certain  drawbacks  in  the  advantages  of  an 
academy;  but  with  respect  to  personal  intercourse, 
there  are  sons  of  ancient  families  who  are  worthy  of 
the  honor  of  associating  with  the  Prince.  It  would 
perhaps  be  easier  there  for  the  young  gentleman  to 
keep  clear  of  unsuitable  society  than  in  a  regiment." 

"It  is  not  this  danger  which  I  fear  for  him,"  re- 
plied the  Prince;  "but  the  unpractical  theories  and 
disturbing  ideas  which  are  there  promulgated." 

"  Yet  we  should  learn  what  one  has  to  battle 
against,"  rejoined  the  Lord  High  Steward.  "Does 
your  Highness  think,  from  the  varied  experience 
which  you  have  attained  through  a  highly  intellectual 
life,  that  an  acquaintaince  with  these  ideas  is  so  dan- 
gerous?" 


A    COURT    MA.TTER.  399 

"Does  a  person  go  to  hell  in  order  to  become 
pious?"  asked  the  Prince,  good-humoredly. 

"  A  great  poet  having  ventured  this,"  replied  the 
Lord  High  Steward,  "wrote  his  divine  poem;  and  my 
gracious  lord,  who  himself  has  always  preserved  a 
warm  interest  in  learned  pursuits,  considers  our  Uni- 
versities at  best  a  species  of  mild  purgatory.  If  an 
infernal  flame  should  cling  to  the  soil  of  our  illustri- 
ous Prince  after  his  return  from  this  place,  it  will  soon 
be  eradicated  by  the  high  interests  of  his  princely 
calling." 

"Yes,"  assented  the  Prince,  with  lofty  expression, 
"  there  is  a  consecration  in  the  office  of  princes  which 
fits  even  a  weak  man  for  the  great  interests  which  he 
has  to  grapple  with  through  his  life.  But,  your  Ex- 
cellence, it  is  difficult  to  observe  without  contemptu- 
ous pity  the  sentimental  fools'  paradise  of  the  new 
rulers,  and  hear  the  old  phrases  of  love  and  confidence 
believed  in  and  spoken  of  by  princely  mouths.  Un- 
doubtedly these  popular  ebullitions  are  transitory,  and 
many  of  us  older  ones  have  once  indulged  in  dreams, 
and  endeavoured  to  plant  green  moss  where  it  has 
been  withered  by  the  sun;  but  the  fearful  dangers  of 
the  present  times  make  such  wavering  more  danger- 
ous to  the  new  rulers,  and  false  steps  in  the  beginning 
of  a  reign  may  often  ruin  the  position  of  the  ruler 
afterwards." 

The  Lord  High  Steward  replied  apologetically: 
"  It  is  perhaps  well  to  be  wiser  than  others,  but  to  be 
more  moderate  is  at  no  period  advantageous.  Still  a 
little  poetry  and  youthful  enthusiasm  may  be  allowed 
to  our  princes;  and  if  I  therefore  venture  to  recom- 
mend a  visit  to  the  University  for  his  Highness,  the 
Hereditary  Prince,  it  is  with  the  satisfactory  feeling 


4oo 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


that  in  doing  so  I  express  your  Highness's  own  opin- 
ion." 

The  Prince  looked  sharply  at  the  Lord  High  Stew- 
ard, and  a  sudden  cloud  passed  over  his  brow.  "  How 
should  you  know  what  my  secret  thoughts  are?" 

"That  would  be  quite  a  vain  attempt  with  your 
Highness,"  replied  the  old  courtier,  gently,  "  and  it 
would  little  benefit  an  old  servant  to  spy  into  the  se- 
cret thoughts  of  his  master.  But  your  Highness  has 
always  hitherto  given  the  Hereditary  Prince  tutors 
and  attendants  who  were  not  military.  This  leads 
every  one  to  a  conclusion  respecting  your  Highness's 
wishes." 

"You  are  right,  as  always,"  said  the  Prince,  ap- 
peased. "  It  is  a  pleasure  to  me  to  find  that  your 
views  coincide  with  mine.  For  it  is  a  serious  decis- 
ion that  I  have  to  make;  it  robs  me  for  a  long  time 
of  the  company  of  my  dear  Benno." 

The  Lord  High  Steward  showed  his  sympathy  by 
a  silent  bow.  "Your  Highness's  decision  will  un- 
doubtedly produce  great  changes,  for  it  will  at  the 
same  time  remove  all  the  young  people  from  the 
Court." 

"All?"  asked  the  Prince,  surprised.     "The  Hered 
itary  Prince  will   depart  shortly  after  the  marriage  of 
his  sister,  but  Prince  Victor  will  still  remain  here." 

"Then  I  humbly  beg  your  pardon,"  rejoined  the 
Lord  High  Steward.  "I  had  taken  for  granted  that 
the  departure  of  the  Hereditary  Prince  would  be  fol- 
lowed by  the  entrance  of  Prince  Victor  into  a  foreign 
army." 

"What  makes  you  think  that?"  said  the  Prince, 
with  surprise.  "  I  have  not  the  least  intention  of  pro- 


A    COURT    MATTER. 


4OI 


viding  for  Prince  Victor  abroad;  he  may  practice  the 
art  of  riding  in  our  squadrons." 

"  In  this  case  his  position  at  Court  would  be 
changed,"  said  the  Lord  High  Steward,  thoughtfully; 
"  on  occasions  he  would  rank  and  act  as  the  represen- 
tative member  of  this  illustrious  house." 

"What  are  you  thinking  of,"  my  Lord  High  Stew- 
ard?" replied  the  Prince,  captiously. 

"Will  your  Highness  graciously  explain  how  that 
can  be  avoided?  The  rights  of  blood  can  never  be 
given  or  taken  away.  The  Prince  is  the  nearest  rela- 
tive of  the  Royal  Family,  and  the  rules  of  the  Court 
require  a  corresponding  position,  and  the  Court  v/ill 
insist  that  he  be  not  deprived  of  it." 

"The  Court!"  exclaimed  the  Prince,  contemptu- 
ously; "  You  might  as  well  say  at  once,  the  Lord  High 
Steward." 

"  The  Lord  High  Steward  is  appointed  by  your 
Highness  to  watch  over  the  regulations  of  the  Court," 
replied  the  old  gentleman,  with  solemnity.  "But  as 
my  personal  opinion,  I  venture  to  suggest  that  service 
in  this  capital  and  the  proximity  of  the  Court  are  not 
advantageous  for  the  active  and  energetic  spirit  of 
Prince  Victor;  it  may  be  foreseen  that  your  Highness 
will  often  have  occasion  to  be  dissatisfied  with  him, 
and  that  the  loss  of  your  Highness's  favour,  consider- 
ing the  lively  and  popular  character  of  the  Prince, 
may  give  occasion  to  continual  scandal  and  malicious 
talk.  Therefore  I  venture  to  assume  that  the  consid- 
erations which  hinder  the  military  career  of  the  He- 
reditary Prince  in  a  foreign  army  will  have  no  weight 
as  regards  Prince  Victor." 

The  Prince  looked  down  moodily.  At  last  he  be- 
gan, as  if  convinced:  "  I  thank  you  for  having  called 


402 


THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 


my  attention  to  these  considerations:  I  will  come  to  a 
decision  after  mature  deliberation.  Your  Excellence 
may  be  satisfied  that  I  know  how  to  value  the  warm 
sympathy  you  take  in  me  and  mine." 

The  Lord  High  Steward  bowed  and  left  the  room; 
the  furrows  deepened  in  the  face  of  the  Prince  as  he 
looked  after  the  old  man. 

The  consequence  of  this  conversation  was  that  the 
Hereditary  Prince  was  sent  to  the  University,  where 
the  event  did  not  create  so  much  commotion  as  was 
expected  at  Court. 

The  Rector,  one  evening,  came  to  Professor  Wer- 
ner, and  after  greeting  Use,  began,  "  You  set  a  good 
example  to  your  country  when  you  came  to  us;  a  com- 
munication has  been  made  from  head-quarters  to  the 
University  that  in  the  next  term  your  Hereditary 
Prince  will  begin  his  studies  with  us."  Then,  turning 
to  the  Professor,  he  continued:  "It  is  expected  that 
we  shall  all  do  what  we  can,  compatibly  with  the  duties 
of  our  office,  to  advance  the  education  of  the  young 
Prince.  I  have  to  convey  to  you  the  wishes  of  his 
Highness  that  you  should  lecture  to  the  Hereditary 
Prince  in  his  own  room." 

"I  shall  give  no  Prince's  lectures,"  replied  the 
Professor;  "my  branch  of  learning  is  too  comprehen- 
sive for  that;  it  cannot  be  put  into  a  nutshell." 

"Perhaps  you  could  lecture  on  some  popular 
theme,"  advised  the  prudent  Rector.  "It  appears  to 
me  that  greater  value  attaches  to  the  beneficial  effect 
of  your  personal  intercourse  with  the  Prince  than  to 
the  contents  of  your  lectures." 

"  If  it  is  agreeable  to  the  Prince  to  be  in  our  house, 
and  he  will  accommodate  himself  to  our  habits,  I  shall 
show  him  every  respectful  and  fitting  attention.  But 


A    COURT    MATTER. 


403 


in  rny  course  of  instruction  I  shall  make  no  change  on 
his  account.  If  he  attends  my  lectures  as  a  student, 
well  and  good;  but  I  will  never  give  any  private  les- 
sons in  his  room  or  in  that  of  any  one  else." 

"Will  not  your  refusal  be  regarded  as  an  incivility?" 
rejoined  the  Rector. 

"It  is  possible,"  replied  the  Professor,  "and  I  must 
acknowledge  to  you  that  in  this  case  it  is  particularly 
painful  to  me.  But  no  personal  consideration  shall 
induce  me  to  give  up  a  principle.  I  have  formerly 
experienced  how  humiliating  it  is  to  have  to  fashion 
and  fit  a  serious  subject  to  the  comprehension  of  a  boy 
who  has  not  the  necessary  preparatory  knov/ledge  and 
the  power  of  grasping  and  taking  a  real  interest  in 
it.  I  shall  never  do  it  again.  But  I  will  do  all  that  I 
can  for  this  young  gentleman,  although  I  must  confess 
that  my  studies  lie  far  from  the  high  road  of  princely 
education.  If  they  wish  to  learn  of  us  what  may  be 
profitable  for  their  future  life,  they  must  do  so  in  a 
regular  way,  and  they  should  come  to  us  with  the  pre- 
paratory knowledge  which  alone  will  make  it  possible 
for  them  to  derive  advantage  from  learning.  I  have 
here  and  there  observed  from  a  distance  how  sad  is 
the  education  of  most  of  them.  The  shallow  and  su- 
perficial nature  of  their  training,  which  renders  it 
almost  impossible  for  them  to  take  a  warm  interest  is 
any  domain  of  intellectual  labor,  is  also  of  little  value 
for  their  future  life,  and  gives  them  little  capacity  for 
their  duties  as  rulers.  We  participate  in  inflicting 
this  injury,  if  we  impart  a  mere  varnish  of  learned  cul- 
ture to  youths  who  have  not  in  truth  as  much  knowl- 
edge as  a  freshman.  And  that  is  usually  the  object. 
It  is  not  necessary  to  visit  the  University  in  order  to 
become  a  useful  man;  but  if  one  enters  this  difficult 


404  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

path — and  I  think  undoubtedly  that  every  future  ruler 
ought  to  do  so — it  should  be  in  a  way  that  will  secure 
valuable  results.  I  do  not  condemn  the  teachers  who 
think  otherwise,"  concluded  the  Professor,  "  there  are 
undoubtedly  subjects  in  which  a  succinct  presentation 
of  some  of  the  leading  principles  is  possible  and  pro- 
fitable. But  the  study  of  ancient  learning  is  not  of 
this  class,  and,  therefore,  I  beg  to  be  excused  from 
giving  private  lessons  to  the  young  Prince." 

The  Rector  expressed  his  approbation  of  these 
principles. 

"My  poor  Hereditary  Prince,"  cried  Use,  pity- 
ingly, when  the  Rector  left. 

"My  poor  manuscript,"  retorted  the  Professor, 
laughing. 

"  But  you  have  made  an  exception  in  favor  of 
your  wife,"  rejoined  Use. 

"  Here  the  instruction  is  only  the  guide  to  the 
elucidation  of  our  whole  life,"  replied  the  Professor. 
"Under  these  circumstances,  you  will  be  able  to  con- 
template only  from  a  distance  the  future  Sovereign  of 
Bielstein  as  belonging  to  you;  and  I  shall  also  lose 
certain  faint  hopes  which  I  had  built  upon  the  pass- 
ing acquaintance  with  his  father.  For  it  is  undoubt- 
edly probable  that  my  refusal  will  be  considered  as  an 
act  of  capricious  pride." 

The  Professor  might  have  been  at  ease  upon  this 
point.  Care  would  be  taken  that  his  views  should 
not  reach  the  destination  for  which  they  were  in- 
tended. The  sharpness  would  be  blunted,  the  point 
broken,  for  indeed  in  the  higher  regions  such  an  idea 
would  be  considered  so  monstrous  that  it  could  only 
be  put  down  to  the  account  of  a  reprobate  man;  and 
this  was  by  no  means  the  case  with  the  Professor. 


A    COURT    MATTER.  405 

The  Rector  was  cautious  enough  to  give  plausible 
reasons  for  Werner's  refusal,  and  at  the  Prince's  pal- 
ace it  was  determined  that  the  Hereditary  Prince 
should  attend  the  Professor's  lectures.  From  a  syl- 
labus of  Werner's  lectures  a  course  was  selected;  it 
was  on  the  inspection  and  explanation  of  casts  of  an- 
tique sculpture,  during  which  the  Hereditary  Prince 
and  his  attendant  had  at  least  not  to  sit  among  a 
crowd  of  colored  caps,  but  could  wander  about  in 
princely  isolation. 


Again  did  the  ripened  ears  of  corn  wave  gently 
under  the  autumn  breeze,  when  Use  went  with  her 
husband  to  the  home  of  her  childhood  to  visit  her  fa- 
ther. A  year  abounding  in  happiness,  but  not  free 
from  pain;  had  passed.  Her  own  life  also  had  been  a 
little  history  in  which  she  had  experienced  peace  and 
strife,  progress  and  weakness.  Her  pale  cheeks 
showed  that  she  had  encountered  suffering,  and  her 
thoughtful  countenance  portrayed  the  serious  thoughts 
that  had  passed  through  her  mind;  but  when  she 
glanced  at  the  weather-beaten  church,  and  fixed  her 
eyes  on  the  dark  roof  of  her  father's  house,  everything 
was  forgotten,  and  she  felt  again  as  a  child  in  the 
peaceful  home  which  now  appeared  so  refreshing  and 
comforting.  The  farm-people  thronged  round  the 
gate;. and  her  sisters  rushed  to  meet  her,  and  her  fa- 
ther, towering  above  all,  helped  her  and  her  husband 
out  of  the  carriage.  She  clasped  every  one  of  them  in 
a  silent  embrace;  but  when  little  Franz  sprang  up  to 
her,  she  pressed  him  to  her  heart,  and,  losing  all  her 
composure,  burst  into  tears,  and  the  father  was  obliged 
to  take  the  child  from  her  arms. 

They  could  only  pay  a  short  visit,  for  his  profes- 


406  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

sional  duties  compelled  the  Professor  to  return  home 
soon;  and  though  he  had  proposed  to  Use  to  remain 
longer  with  her  father,  she  declined  doing  so. 

The  father  looked  searchingly  at  the  manner  and 
countenance  of  his  daughter,  and  made  the  Professor 
tell  him  repeatedly  how  rapidly  and  easily  she  had 
made  herself  at  home  in  the  city.  Meanwhile  Use 
flew  through  the  farm-yard  and  garden  out  into  the 
fields,  again  gambolling  with  her  little  sisters,  who 
would  not  let  go  her  hand. 

"You  are  all  grown,"  she  exclaimed,  "but  my  curly 
head  most  of  all — he  will  be  like  his  father.  You  will 
be  a  country  gentleman,  Franz." 

"  No,  a  Professor,"  answered  the  boy. 

"Ah,  you  poor  child!"  said  Use. 

Th.e  laborers  left  their  work  and  hastened  to 
meet  her,  and  there  were  many  kind  greetings  and 
questions:  the  head  carter  stopped  his  horses,  and  the 
grey  mare  tossed  her  head.  "  She  knows  you  well," 
said  the  man,  cracking  his  whip  gaily. 

Use  went  into  the  village,  to  pay  a  tribute  of  re- 
spect to  the  dead  and  to  visit  the  living.  It  was  with 
difficulty  that  she  could  get  away  from  the  invalid 
Benz,  and  when  at  last  she  did  so,  he  called  for  his 
slate,  and  with  trembling  hands  gave  expression  to  his 
joy  in  poetry.  She  then  made  a  careful  inspection  of 
the  farm-yard.  Accompanied  by  a  train  of  maids,  she 
walked  between  the  rows  of  cattle,  in  spite  of  her 
fashionable  dress,  like  the  legendary  Frau  Berchta, 
who  scattered,  blessings  throughout  the  stable  and 
house.  She  stopped  before  every  horned  head;  the 
cows  raised  their  mouths  to  her,  lowing;  and  there  was 
some  important  news  to  tell  of  each.  The  maids 
proudly  showed  her  the  young  calves,  and  begged  her 


A    COURT    MATTER. 


407 


to  give  names  to  the  grown-up  heifers — for  the  pro- 
prietor had  desired  that  these  young  ones  should  be 
named  by  Use — and  she  gave  them  the  distinguished 
names  of  Kalypso  and  Xantippe.  All  was  farniliar,  all 
as  formerly,  and  yet  at  every  step  there  was  something 
new  to  eye  and  ear. 

Clara  showed  her  household  accounts:  the  young 
girl  had  kept  them  admirably.  The  praises  which 
were  bestowed  upon  her  by  the  house-keeper  and  by  the 
dairy  maid,  in  confidential  conversations,  gave  Use 
great  pleasure,  and  she  said:  "  Now,  I  am  quite  satis- 
fied you  can  do  without  me  here." 

Towards  evening  the  Professor  sought  his  wife, 
who  had  been  absent  some  hours.  He  heard  the 
noise  of  the  children  by  the  brook,  and  guessed  where 
Use  was.  When  he  turned  round  the  rock  by  the 
cave  he  saw  her  sitting  in  the  shadow,  her  eyes  turned 
to  her  father's  house.  He  called  her  name,  and 
stretched  out  his  arms  towards  her;  she  flew  to  his 
bosom,  and  said,  softly:  "  I  know  that  my  home  is  in 
your  heart;  bear  with  me,  when  old  recollections  crowd 
upon  my  mind  and  move  me  deeply." 

At  night,  when  her  father  conducted  the  Professor 
to  his  bedroom,  still  conversing  with  him  upon  busi- 
ness and  politics,  Use  sent  her  sister  Clara  to  bed,  and 
seated  herself  in  her  chair.  When  her  father  came  in 
to  fetch  his  candle  from  the  table,  he  found  Use  again 
in  her  old  place,  waiting  to  bid  him  good  night,  while 
she  handed  him  the  candle  stick.  He  placed  it  on  the 
table,  and,  walking  up  and  down  the  room,  as  he  had 
done  of  yore,  began,  "  You  are  paler  and  more  serious 
than  you  used  to  be.  Will  that  pass?" 

"  I  hope  it  will,"   replied  his   daughter.      After  a 


408  THE    LOST    MANUSCRIPT. 

time  she  continued,  "  Th'ey  believe  and  think  very 
differently  in  the  city  from  what  we  do,  father." 

The  father  nodded.  "That  was  the  reason  I  was 
anxious, about  you." 

"  And  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  free  myself  from 
painful  thoughts,"  said  Use,  softly. 

"  Poor  child,"  said  the  father,  "  it  passes  my  powers 
to  help  you.  For  us,  in  the  country,  it  is  easy  to  be- 
lieve in  a  father's  care,  when  one  goes  across  the  fields 
and  sees  the  growth  of  everything;.  But  let  a  simple 
countryman  say  a  word  in  confidence  to  you.  Mode- 
ration and  self-renunciation  are  necessary  in  all  earthly 
concerns.  We  are  not  better  in  the  country  and  more 
sensible  because  we  care  little  for  what  is  mysterious 
to  man.  We  have  no  time  for  subtle  inquiries,  and  if 
a  thought  alarms  us,  our  work  helps  to  dispel  our  doubts. 
But  thoughts  return  frequently.  I  have  had  days — 
and  have  still — when  my  brains  have  been  on  the  rack, 
although  I  knew  that  no  good  would  come  of  it;  there- 
fore I  now  endeavor  to  keep  such  thoughts  away. 
This  is  prudence,  but  it  is  not  courage.  You  are  placed 
in  a  sphere  in  which  hearing  and  reflecting  are  un- 
avoidable. You  must  struggle  through  it,  Use.  But 
do  not  forget  two  things:  on  difficult  subjects  men 
take  very  different  points  of  view,  and  on  that  account 
they  have,  from  the  most  ancient  times,  hated  and 
slaughtered  each  other  like  cannibals,  merely  because 
each  considered  himself  in  the  right.  This  should  be 
a  warning  to  us.  There  is  only  one  thing  effectual 
against  doubts:  to  do  your  duty  and  concern  yourself 
with  what  lies  in  your  daily  path;  for  the  rest,  do  not 
despair  because  one  thinks  differently  from  another. 
Are  you  sure  of  your  husband's  love?" 

"  Yes,"  replied  Use. 


D; 


A    COURT    MATTER.  409 

"  And  have  you  a  thorough  respect  for  his  con- 
duct to  yourself  and  others?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Then  all  is  well,"  said  the  father;  "  for  a  tree  is 
known  by  its  fruits.  As  regards  the  rest,  do  not  worry 
about  the  present  or  the  future.  Give  me  the  candle, 
and  go  to  your  husband.  Good  night,  Frau  Professor." 


[END  OF  FIRST  VOLUME,] 


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